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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992339">Nothing but Blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheLight/pseuds/ByTheLight'>ByTheLight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft Movies, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Get in Khadgar we're going to save Azeroth, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, LionTrust, M/M, Medivh has a plan, Mix of movie and game lore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, UST</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:54:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheLight/pseuds/ByTheLight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I saw myself take his bargain. Saw the warped version of myself I would become. Saw the evil I would do. The people I would betray. But then, but then-” Medivh chuckled despite himself, eyes shining with the memory. “I saw blue. Nothing but blue. I heard a name but I remember it not, I saw a face but I remember it not. Young, too young. A brilliant blue, how it shone! The power of blue! Raw, strong, good. Light. Nothing but light. Light and blue.”</p><p>Llane and Taria looked about as confused as was to be expected. What with such a puzzling declaration of a primary colour and all.</p><p>------<br/>The Fel is coming to Azeroth like it or not. And like it or not, Medivh has a plan. </p><p>Lothar does not like it. Not one bit. Not when the plan involves Medivh willingly being possessed by a demon and all their hopes riding on some unknown mage from god knows where.  But then again, nobody said he had to like it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Khadgar &amp; Anduin Lothar, Khadgar/Anduin Lothar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. When Titans come knocking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If it wasn’t considered impolite to gut one of your closest friends as they stood before you, Lothar would have done it ten minutes ago.</p><p> </p><p>“I do not understand.” Lothar spat. He glared at the man opposite him, fingers curling into a fist quite without his meaning to.</p><p>“I am not asking you to understand it,” Medivh replied. “But to accept it.”</p><p>At that Lothar scoffed, throwing his arms in the air. “Accept it? Oh, that’s fine then! I’ll do that!”</p><p>“Lothar-”</p><p>“Accept it. No. I can do that. Accept it. Not a problem.”</p><p>“You’re not listening to me.”</p><p>“And you’re not listening to reason!” Lothar snapped, calloused palms slamming down on the wooden table. Medivh raised an eyebrow. Sunken eyes circled in shadow trying to find reason in the angered man's expression.</p><p>“Lothar.” He said again, finding none. He had no heat to his voice, only a resigned pity that infuriated Lothar far more. “I admit it is not ideal. If anyone has any reason to dislike this, it is me. But we have no choice.”</p><p>“You had a dream Medivh. What if that was all it was? A dream.”</p><p>“Not a dream, a vision. I know well enough to know the difference.”</p><p>Neither noticed the door to the library open despite its withered creak. Neither noticed the cool rush of air that swirled into the room. It rustled the papers left by scholars who had raced away at the pair's arrival. The gentle cough, the kind that seemed too clear to be accidental, well that they noticed. Medivh’s gaze lifted to a spot above Lothar’s head and he grimaced. Lothar swivelled, following the Guardians gaze until he saw the interruption. His sister, The Queen, arms folded, eyes twinkling. He cursed under his breath.</p><p>“If you’re quite done quarrelling.” She began, with an air that suggested that yes, they were now done quarrelling. “You are both requested in the Throne Room.”</p><p>“Why not send a guard?” Lothar questioned, somewhat bitter. He had thought they were alone here. Hoped it, in case he had to punch the sudden stupidity out of his friend.</p><p>“I was stretching my legs -"</p><p>He rolled his eyes.</p><p>"-When I saw a congregation of scholars sitting on the floor outside, using the floor as a table. Forgive my curiosity.” Taria smirked, turning on her heel and weaving between the bookcases. Medivh stepped past him to follow, dark robes swirling the dust around them. Swallowing a cough and a curse, Lothar followed.</p><p>The castle, though grand in its beauty, was built for practicality; the wondrous aesthetic but a happy coincidence. Its practical nature meant the important rooms were relatively close to one another with living quarters nestled further beyond. The distance made it hard for Lothar to converse before they all too quickly arrived at the throne room. An act made harder still by Medivh’s clear desire to completely ignore him.</p><p>Guards donned in silver and blue saluted as they passed. Lothar glared at the bobbing head of the Guardian. He wished he were suited in armour rather than his leather tunic. Perhaps he might then appear more intimidating. Perhaps he may have found it easier to persuade Medivh against his insanity. But no, they had been friends for too long for Medivh to find him any threat. Truer still, little scared the Guardian. Lothar had found it all the more troubling when the mage had appeared in a rush of blue and purple at the castle doors. Sweating, stammering, his eyes wide and shot with red. He appeared confused at the spears pointed his way by the even more startled guards. Usually, the mage cared little for protocol, porting directly into the throne room. This time, the room that housed his king seemed to be the last place he wanted to be, and yet the only place he knew to go to. More than just confused, he had appeared scared.</p><p>Llane stood from his throne as the trio entered, Taria rising the stairs to stand by his side. The dark curl of his hair softened the deep brown of his eyes. His smile full of warmth, of a deep promise made long before his lips could talk. A promise of home. A promise of their king.</p><p>“Medivh.” He said. “I did not expect you to be joining us, to what do I owe this pleasure?”</p><p>“No pleasure my King.” Medivh hesitated. “But news.”</p><p>Lothar’s already steadfast frown deepened. It was unlike Medivh to use formalities. Llane’s smile faltered, he raised his arm, deep blue robes folding around his movements. “Leave us,” he said, motioning to the guards stationed around him. In practised unison, they saluted and turned to leave. Positioning themselves strategically outside the room.</p><p>“What is it Medivh?” he questioned. “You know you may speak freely.”</p><p>The guardian was silent for a moment. He stared at the king as if a gust of wind may sweep in and blow him away, as if this may be the last they will see of each other. Lothar’s stomach churned.</p><p>“I have had a vision. A dark, terrible vision.” he began, and when no one interrupted save for the sharp intake of Lothar’s breath, he continued. “Of forests blackened by more than fire. Of hulking creatures twice our size. Of a sickly, haunted, terrible green. A vision of titans and demons. Fire and ash. Destruction. Death.” A breath dropped and clattered against the stone. “Llane, I saw Stormwind, if you could even call it that anymore. A husk abandoned by all but anguished ghosts too tormented to leave. Beyond our gates, have you ever seen a mass grave the size of a planet? Darkness. Void. Defeat. The end of our world.”</p><p>The throne room was silent, the smile completely wiped from Llane’s expression and replaced with a heavy, considering frown. Lothar scowled; he had heard this part. It only got worse.</p><p>“I heard a voice.” Medivh said, his own trembled, tinged with guilt for deeds not yet done. “And it had promised me salvation. Power. Eternity. But for myself alone. By accepting, I would be leading Azeroth into that vision far before its time. By denying, I was only sparing myself the blame, knowing its intent would be realised another way.”</p><p>Medivh glanced at Lothar, apology ringing in his gaze. He turned back to the waiting King and Queen. He swallowed a breath, picked a spot on the wall, and continued.</p><p>“I saw myself take his bargain. Saw the warped version of myself I would become. Saw the evil I would do. The people I would betray. But then, but then-” Medivh chuckled despite himself, eyes shining with the memory. “I saw blue. Nothing but blue. I heard a name, but I remember it not, I saw a face, but I remember it not. Young, too young. A brilliant blue, how it shone! The power of blue! Raw, strong, good. Light. Nothing but light. Light and blue.”</p><p>Llane and Taria looked about as confused as was to be expected. What with such a puzzling declaration of a primary colour and all.</p><p>Medivh tore his gaze from the wall and levelled Llane with the same look he had given Lothar at the gates. Before he had confessed the reason for his sudden arrival.</p><p>“I seek your permission to accept the offer.”</p><p>Medivh had expected shock. Outrage. Yelling, but this?</p><p>Llane laughed, bright and loud. It shocked Lothar enough for his frown to stumble dazedly off his face. His laughter reverberated around the room. Medivh showed neither surprise nor confusion, only continued to look at his king.</p><p>When Llane’s gaze returned to the mage and did not find the merriment it sought, the notion of this being some weird magic joke with a rather long setup evaporated on his tongue. Instead, he sputtered. Mirth forming into confusion. Confusion into a rage. Rage into a sharp-tongued. “No.”</p><p>Medivh sighed.</p><p>“You have to be insane. You come to me with these visions of death. Visions of evil by your hand, or by the hand of whatever bargain you struck. You expect me to allow you to fulfil this terrible vision? Have you quite forgotten yourself?”</p><p>“I wish I did not have to do it Llane.” Medivh sighed. “I know how it must sound. But this is the only choice we have.”</p><p>“Explain yourself.” Llane retorted with a practiced coldness. His brow deep, teeth clenched against the words he chewed out.</p><p>“If we do not accept this offer, this thing, I know not what yet, will seep into Azeroth anyway. It will corrupt the land; it will kill our people. It will destroy us. We do not survive. Nothing does.”</p><p>Medivh twirled his hands in the air around him. Particles took shape and colour and formed into a faded picture of the Guardians vision. Llane inspected it closely, Taria’s brow had furrowed so deeply in thought. Medivh took this silence as his moment to continue.</p><p>“But.” He said as the particles swam lazily through the air, forming a new picture, one of blue and of light. “If we were to accept it... if I were to take it in. This vision has promised salvation that this demon could not fight. It does not come from betrayal, or deceit, or the accursed fel, that sickly green I spoke of. No, it comes from a human. A mage no less. If I am to take this demon, he is to destroy it. Maybe not forever, not then anyway. But he will. Azeroth will be safe from one enemy, although I cannot guarantee we will be safe from any other.”</p><p>“We are to put the hope of our survival onto some mage we do not even know exists?” Llane questioned, squinting at the picture in the hopes he may be able to make out some face. Some features. None came to him.</p><p>“He exists.” Was all Medivh offered.</p><p>“You do not know his name. You do not know his face. All you know is a colour.” Taria interjected.</p><p>“Even if he were to exist, would he not just come when this, fel, you call it?” Llane paused long enough for Medivh to nod. “When this fel comes regardless, would he not be there then?”</p><p>Medivh shook his head. “Unfortunately not, no. In this vision, this reality, he crosses paths with our Champion. That is all I know. Without that meeting, he would not know what is necessary to know to defeat it.”</p><p>Llane glanced at Lothar, the Champion seething too heavily to find the words to interject.</p><p>“And what of you Medivh?” Taria asked, gaze heavy. “What becomes of you after this... light?”</p><p>“Ah.” Medivh said, averting his eyes. “I am to perish with it.”</p><p>At that Llane made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a roar. They heard armour clank outside. Guards stood to attention, waiting on tenterhooks to run in if needed.</p><p>“You wish to embark on a suicide mission?” Llane spluttered. “Medivh I cannot understand you.”</p><p>“It is the only way to free Azeroth of this curse. If the demon is contained within my body, it can be banished.” Medivh felt his voice raise. “If this demon gathers strength and appears in full form in our home, we will not even have time to count our dead.”</p><p>Llane staggered back slightly, sinking into his throne, head in his hands. Dark eyes flicked up to Medivh, a sad grimace on his lips. Lothar knew that face.</p><p>“You cannot seriously be considering this!?” He roared, stepping forwards. The anger he had felt in his silence radiating against his skin.</p><p>“If these visions are true-” Llane began.</p><p>“What if they aren’t!” Lothar bellowed. “What if this fel has already taken him? What if it lies!”</p><p>“If that were true why would it come here to tell us its plan?” Taria mused though she did not seem so sure of this idea herself.</p><p>“I don’t know! To mock us?” he hissed “To gloat?”</p><p>Llane’s gaze flitted to him before shifting back to Medivh.</p><p>“If you were to accept. Would you remember this? How human would you still be?”</p><p>Lothar seethed. He could not believe Llane was listening to this, let alone considering it. And now he was to be ignored too?</p><p>“Llane-” He interjected before Medivh could speak, Llane’s leveled stare silenced him.</p><p>“I have not yet made any decision Anduin. You are my friend, but you would do well not to forget that I am your king.”</p><p>Lothar felt the breath leave his body. This was useless. Insane. Insane and useless.</p><p>“To make a judgement I must know the variables.” he motioned for Medivh to speak.</p><p>The guardian glanced at Lothar. “I do not know.” He said truthfully. “But I doubt it. If this is to happen, it is not to be known outside this circle.”</p><p>“Not even to this supposed mage?”</p><p>“No. We may not know who he is. But I do know that he must find this out for himself. Once he knows, he cannot do it alone. I sensed blue, blue and Anduin, and something or someone else all too familiar to myself and yet I cannot grasp it. I saw a tooth, not human.” he shrugged, knowing that wasn’t as helpful as he wished it could be. If only the vision had been clearer.</p><p>Lothar had found himself pacing around the room. Muttering obscenities to nobody in particular. This was ridiculous. The king would see this was ridiculous. He tried not to think of the terrible picture those long-gone particles had formed. Tried not to think of what it meant if it could be true.</p><p>“And Llane-” Medivh continued. Lothar looked up; suddenly aware the mage had still been talking. Medivh released a heavy breath and levelled the king with a miserable grimace. “There is more you must know.”</p><p>Llane met Medivh’s knowing gaze, he huffed, sighing.</p><p>“Anduin.” He said, barely meeting the glare that shot his way. “You are dismissed.”</p><p>Lothar tried to protest but found he had too many words to say all at once and could get none out coherently.</p><p>“I promise I will not make a judgement unless I am certain. You know me Anduin. You must promise you will accept whatever that judgement may be.”</p><p>He grumbled something under his breath, hands shaking. Mumbling something that sounded like a “Fine.” he stalked out of the room. Armour clinked as guards stood to attention. What sounded like a stray helmet slammed against a wall. Footsteps faded. Silence.</p><p>Llane nodded at Medivh, imploring him to speak.</p><p>Lothar left the training grounds some hours later, sweat sticking to him like a second skin. He clung to the familiarity of the hilt in his hand, everything else was so unfamiliar as of late. Enemies twice his size? A sickly green? He prided himself in his ability to fight, but how could one fight a colour? He didn’t even know what this colour could do and chided himself for not listening more as Medivh had explained. All he could hear in that throne room was the thrumming of hot blood under his skin, pounding in his ears. His sword? Familiar? The ache of strain in his bones? Familiar. The quiet grumbles of soldiers he may have pushed too hard? Familiar. But swirls of green and blue, of mages and monsters, titans and demons. Not familiar. Not enough. Not at all.</p><p>Around him the city seemed to hum. The river gently caressed the stone brick that housed it. Forever ebbing and flowing into well-worn cracks. Hovering before continuing its endless path around the city. Market stalls were being packed up, their owners comparing stories about their trades. Children wove between them, desperate to fill a few more moments of play before dusk. Patrols marched through the streets, beacons of authority with gentle smiles. His city, his Stormwind. Images of its destruction danced in the corners of his mind. He shut his eyes against it with such force he saw nothing but red and felt the beginnings of a headache in its wake.</p><p>He did not waste time bathing; the water would still be there when he returned from the keep. He had to see Llane, had to hear what was going to happen next. His fingers itched to be wrapped around its hilt, familiar. Familiar. Familiar.</p><p>Unfamiliar. The expression on Llane's face was one he had never seen before, which is saying something. Lothar wondered what Medivh had shown him. The King did not have the words for what he had to confess, he nodded, that was more than enough.</p><p>Lothar’s fist flew into the wall before he knew it was going. Brick dust scattered, settling into the now open wound in his knuckles. Between the new cracks of the structure shone the last blue light of day. They had placed the fate of Azeroth on a colour. Unfamiliar.</p><p>Very, very, unfamiliar.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. There's got to be more (more than this)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All is not well with the Kirin Tor. Something is different. Something has changed.</p><p>Khadgar is, understandably, confused.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The wind had changed. He watched as two birds soared overhead. One snapped at the other and they twirled, weaving with ease through the still air. A sigh he hadn’t noticed escaped his lips, floating upwards as if to join them. Blinking, he took a step back from the window and ducked beneath a solitary cobweb he never had the energy to remove. </p><p> </p><p>His room was bare. If he ever had a visitor, Khadgar chuckled darkly to himself, they would think nobody lived here at all. The only sign of any presence of a person in the wooden quarters was the desk. Papers, books, unsharpened quills, ink pots toppling over one another, and two new additions. One, a small, unassuming book. It’s cover faded with age. The other, a hand-drawn map detailing two distinct regions. Elwynn Forest, with its lush trees and whispers of life. The other unknown, with its twisting rivers and expansive foliage, surrounded by mountains. Nestled into a nook, caught somewhere between bathed in light and hidden in shadow, a tower. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar's hands raked through his dark hair and rubbed down his face, squeezing the tired from his eyes. He blinked away the spots that wavered in his vision. Something wasn’t right. </p><p> </p><p>He supposed that wasn’t much of a surprise. In his line of work, things are rarely right. He trained under mages who seemed so far detached from the world he often wondered if they might be ghosts. Long dead mages too stubborn to release their power. To say he wholly disliked them would be untrue, but only partially. </p><p> </p><p>Their power and intellect were far superior to anything Khadgar had ever known, yet they too had their secrets. Their methods of training were brutal at best and the exhaustion in Khadgar’s bones served to prove that. He appreciated their knowledge. He did not appreciate their apparent lack of care for the populace. Other initiates, he wouldn’t go as far as to call them friends, but faces he knew nonetheless, gone. One by one, sent by the council of six to some far off destiny. Some would come back only to be cast aside as failures. Some did not return. It was an ordinary day, much like this one, when he had felt the council’s gaze turn to him. </p><p> </p><p>They did not speak to him outright, but he heard them regardless. Khadgar was young, yes, but he was clever. He knew of quiet places where words reverberate off empty walls and are carried into dark corridors. That was where he had sat when he heard them. He learned they intended him to spy, to be used as a pawn for greater knowledge. Names for things he didn’t recognise filtered down the lonely halls towards him. Karazhan. Guardian. Spy. Fel.</p><p> </p><p>He did not stick around to hear much else, young ears pricking at the sound of the mages moving his way. He slipped out of a back entrance, snuck through an underused kitchen, detoured at one of the libraries before returning to his bland room. His home for too many years to count. Something that tasted a lot like bile rose in his throat and he spat, swirling to collapse on his dishevelled bed. </p><p> </p><p>To be used as a common spy? Some expendable, underhand thing? Khadgar had hoped, admittedly far too optimistically, that he would find purpose here. That he might become something here. He had hoped to help people. Every twitch in his bones from too long training. Every time he spat blood, his throat torn raw from ripping spells from his mouth. Every time he panged for the family he never knew, the friends he would never have. All to become a worthless spy. A puppet for the people who thought themselves above the world. </p><p> </p><p>They had yet to come to him, that gave him time. Time for what? He wasn’t quite sure. He only hoped he could figure it out quickly. Khadgaar spent that night, and many subsequent ones wrapped in his study of Titans and Demons. He pined for any knowledge the overheard conversation could give him. He studied the Guardian, who he learned was called Medivh. He studied Aegwynn and how she had distanced herself. He studied banished Titans and prisons locked deep in the universe until his head threatened to burst from the pressure of it all. But most of all, he studied the Fel. </p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t much information on it, granted. But what snippets he could find he hoarded. He didn’t quite know how but he knew they were all connected. It was an unknown, a variable. He had heard one of his mentors whisper it as he perched in his familiar corridor, waiting. Always waiting. A rush of something he knew to be anger bubbled within him. Knowing these all-powerful mages knew of something so unfamiliar which could cause so much destruction. Yet they sat idly by. It did not sit right with him. </p><p> </p><p>That was how he found himself here, now. Birds fighting outside, a half-packed bag tucked under a messy desk. What little time he had was rapidly running out. Dawn had barely broken as he shouldered on his robes, casting a forlorn look at his unslept in bed. With a grimace, he shook the tired ache from his bones and twisted the handle to his chambers. With a deep breath, he emerged. Another day of training. Another day of waiting. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar was not a vain nor an entitled man. If he considered himself stronger than the other initiates, it’s only because he was. He took in their bright faces as they ascended to the courtyard. Maybe, he thought, they simply didn’t need this as he did. This was all he knew. The validation and praise he had once craved from his mentors now left him hollow and sick, and yet he craved them still. </p><p> </p><p>The words on the page he studied swam across the surface. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t see the importance of this meaningless history when the world was teetering on the abyss. When they arrived at the training grounds he felt restless blood pump hungry against his veins. Whilst the other initiates faced off against training dummies or each other, their mentor, a skinny man known as Beture, insisted that Khadgar faced him. This was not new. Khadgar could already taste the humiliation of yet another defeat. The bitter taste in his mouth as his fellow initiates returned to their quarters. Only for their mentor to lean over him, gaze unknowable, before saying “Again.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt the arcane crackle beneath his skin, as comforting as an old friend. He watched wordlessly as his mentor’s hands rippled through the air, purple runes drawn against a canvas of sky. He felt the rush of energy as some torrent of power torpedoed towards him. His own hands rushed into action, practised fingers plucking blue runes from nothing, hands spiralling. He felt a contradiction of excite and calm swell within him.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Ulaman acar!” </em> He yelled, watching as his mentor's spell rebounded off the conjured shield, slamming into a column that splintered apart. Khadgar did not have time to revel in his small success, narrowly dodging a similar attack. With a grimace, he re-centered himself, a familiar energy building in the space between his palms. Some spells he knew so well they needed no incantation. Bolt after bolt of arcane energy screamed through the air, the first shattered into the wall, the second rebuffed with a wave of his Beture’s hand. Khadgar watched as the older mans eyes followed the path of the bolts, a half-formed idea building in his head. He threw a bolt far off course, watched as his mentor followed it with a smug grin. By the time his gaze had settled back on Khadgar, it was too late. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Shir'kala khratar!” </em> with a flourish of his hands his mentor was picked up by a rush of energy, pinning him against the wall. Sweat beaded from his forehead against Beture’s struggle and yet he held steady. He felt the astonished gaze of the initiates, felt the satisfying hum of energy within him. He had won. With a sudden grimace, he realised what that meant. </p><p> </p><p>Sharp pain bit into his side, electrocuting his entire body as his concentration and spell dropped. Beture tumbled to the ground as Khadgar lay writhing in pain, gasping for air. The wards around this place were expertly crafted. None could harm the mages whilst they were active. Since initiates rarely bested their mentors in training the subsequent near-death experience was, thankfully, uncommon. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar lay panting on the floor, fingers digging into sand and grit. He felt the arcane scream against the insult. Yet he could not help the sly twitch of his mouth. He had won. </p><p> </p><p>It was rather unceremonious for a winner to be left on the floor. Beture dismissed the other initiates, their eyes shone with the excitement of something new finally happening. Beture waited for Khadgar to find the strength to rise, wobbling on his feet. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar wondered if Beture had noticed the stifled grin that snuck onto his face as he took in the state of his mentor, robes torn and dirty. By the sour look shot his way, he guessed he had.</p><p> </p><p>“You are to appear before the Council tonight,” Beture said, dusting himself off in an attempt to look dignified. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar felt the smile slip from his features. <em>Ah.</em> </p><p> </p><p>He nodded. Beture left in a huff, leaving him alone with nothing but the crushing weight of destiny on his shoulders. Khadgar pulled his robes around him, suddenly cold. He felt his skin spasm from aftershocks and was abruptly reminded of the splitting pain. He winced, making his way to his room. </p><p> </p><p>It was time. The council had deemed him ready for his unwanted quest. They had been much harder on him than on the initiates they sent before him. This time they wanted to be sure. If he let himself think about it, he might feel bad about absorbing all the knowledge and skill from this place as he could. Only before abandoning it right before he is asked to show his worth. But his worth can not be found as an underhand spy. He would not allow it. </p><p> </p><p>Barreling into his room he packed the rest of his belongings with a fervor he barely remembered possessing. His few meager possessions and clothing leaving a lot of room for his books and scrolls. He winced at the tomes he would have to leave behind. There would be more books outside sure, but these were his books. Logically he knew that was wrong. That as soon as the rage from his disappearance had been felt, these books would be returned to the library along with a curse on his name. For a moment, he faltered. He was to throw it all away, everything he had worked towards, and for what? </p><p> </p><p>For nothing. Not anything he knew at least. To throw it all away for the vague chance that something was better for him out there. He had felt it with the change of wind, with the crackle of the energies housed around him. It was time. </p><p> </p><p>He donned his cloak, pulling the hood up to cover his face as he swung his bag around his shoulders. He took one last look at his room that had never been his home. At the birds outside the window that seemed to have settled, and turned to leave. </p><p> </p><p>Once he had put enough distance between himself and the buildings of the Kirin Tor he knelt down. With quick movements, he drew a portal on the rocky ground, some small hesitation in his work. He had never actually done this before, only studied it. With a controlled breath, he stood up, drawing the focus of the arcane with him.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Ach pareth'aras acha murabar. ” </em> The ground seemed to rattle beneath him. His fingers clasped around arcane that vibrated, shaking his arms with its strength. He thought of the land he had only seen in maps and tomes, and through his own eyes too young to remember. Wisps of arcane licked the air around him. This was not his smartest idea. </p><p> </p><p><em>Ah well, it’s done now.</em> The visions of buildings shattered in front of him and he was immediately dragged inwards. The breath expelling from his lungs in one sharp moment.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
In the months that had passed word of the runaway mage had reached Elwynn Forest. Khadgar shrunk further into his cloak as he picked his way through the streets, trying not to think of himself as a fugitive. The mark on his skin itched, uncomfortable, and unwelcome. </p><p> </p><p>Starting a new life for himself had not been as easy as he had hoped. In the real world, things were brought with gold, not knowledge. He did not have much of the former. He had flitted from place to place, not liking to stay too long in case he was recognised. He followed the traces of the fel, surprised and perturbed to discover it was more prevalent than he feared. How the Kirin Tor had let things escalate this far, he couldn’t understand it. </p><p> </p><p>He had survived by doing odd jobs for the civilians he met along the way, exploring the stretches of Azeroth as far as his legs would take him. Khadgar would always return to this forest, though he didn’t know why. In the distance, Stormwind stood proud, its tall structures full of light. It agonised him to see it sometimes, knowing that security was not for him. Other times it emboldened him. He may not be doing much yet, but he was helping people. He was protecting the hope of these people. At least that’s what he told himself whilst sprinting from a particularly angry pig someone had the sense of humour to call ‘Princess.’</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar considered putting some coin down for a room at Goldshire Inn but decided against it. He had stayed there before, he could not afford to be seen as regular enough that someone might ask his name. He had tried aliases before. Between new names and the ever-present threat of the end of the world, he found himself too tired to remember what he was supposed to be called. </p><p> </p><p>Turning this way and that, he glanced at himself in the windows of the inn. His hair had grown longer, he liked it. It made him look older, cursed with a young face like he was. A shout from the road caught his attention and he swivelled to see people scatter from the streets to the safety of grass or the steps of shops. </p><p> </p><p>Soldiers on the backs of horses thundered down the path. Their expressions behind their helmets Khadgar couldn’t see, but their movements were urgent, weapons drawn. Something told Khadgar this moment was important, but he couldn’t quite place it. The arcane within him stirred, desperately wanting to reach out to the soldiers who were gathering speed. If elements could have an emotion, Khadgar would guess that it was concerned. That too, he didn’t understand. </p><p> </p><p>That night he didn’t rest, instead, he followed the pull of the arcane. It seemed to react to the very air around him, gearing up to face an enemy it was born to fight. Khadgar wondered absently if it was him that wielded the arcane or the arcane that wielded Khadgar. The thunder of hooves shook him from his thought. More soldiers? He mused. A moment later, four unmanned horses careened around the corner, eyes wide, strong legs almost buckling under their speed. Khadgar threw himself from the road, rolling down a hill to get out of their path. Rising, using a tree for leverage, he watched the horses disappear with a gulp. Those were definitely the same horses he had seen earlier that day, only there had been twelve of them. He looked around, no sign of the other horses, no sign of the soldiers they belonged to. No sign of life other than the gentle breeze around him. Well, this was important. </p><p> </p><p>He needed to catch his breath, and so he sat where he was for some time. Mind whirring as he contemplated the possibilities. He was still sat there some hours later when a foul stench drifted to his nostrils. Against his better judgement, he followed it, trekking the path up to the garrison. Outside, he saw what seemed like a large open carriage, dirtied and torn cloth draped over the top. A gust of wind shuddered through the air, lifting the edge of the cloth by a breath. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar vomited into a nearby bush, retching his meager dinner from his insides and spilling it like a dirty secret on the floor. There was no mistaking it. The sunken, hollow features. The dark veins protruding against deathly pale skin, the staring blackness of the eyes. The complete absence of life. Fel. </p><p> </p><p>The garrison’s door had been torn open. Khadgar noted the hoofprints in the muddy earth, many more entered than had left. Some horses seemed to scatter and escape at least. A grim thought. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled his cloak over his mouth, hand raised, fingers itching to strike through the air. Slowly, quietly, he stepped over the precipice into something he didn’t understand and did not have long to learn. </p><p> </p><p>The acrid smell worsened with each tentative step. Rot and death, and something else. Something unnatural. He paused a moment to listen, hearing nothing he hoped it was only him and the dead here. Khadgar did not want to meet whatever had caused this much careless destruction. His step over bodies cautious and slow, fighting the urge to be sick again. So much death, where would he even begin? </p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, that choice was ripped away from him. He heard voices outside, hurried steps. Cursing he ducked into an alcove near a window. If he needed to make a hasty retreat the fall would be better than nothing. He heard someone swear, heard another anguished cry, heard a startled gasp all before he saw them. More soldiers, too late to help, late enough to survive. He watched as they shook the despair off, moving into a formation to sweep the building for anyone they might not expect. Anyone, Khadgar thought, like him. He scurried to the window, glancing back to ensure he had not been spotted, and with a harsh grip on the ledge, threw himself out. </p><p> </p><p>He may have forgotten he was on the ground floor and he rolled to safety, having expected a longer fall. Not keen to waste time he skidded into the forest and watched with bated breath. He had not been seen. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar remained there a while longer. He watched as one soldier called for reinforcements, watched as some filtered into the nearby forest in search of, well, anything. He thanked his lucky stars that none had spotted him. He watched as reinforcements arrived, laden with wagons and carriages to carry their dead. Khadgar grimaced, mind wandering back to his empty room with the Kirin Tor. He wondered if anyone had filled it yet. Ahead of him one of the soldiers mentioned bringing the dead to the barracks so they could be prepared for an honourable burial.</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar supposed he couldn’t avoid Stormwind for much longer. </p><p> </p><p>Getting into the city had not been hard, nobody stopped him. Finding the barracks in unfamiliar territory was another matter entirely. It’s not like he could ask anybody, he could not afford the suspicion that came with such a question from such a man like himself. </p><p> </p><p>It was quite by happy accident that he stumbled into the wall of a large stone building. Soldiers came and went. Officers and Marshals spoke in hushed tones. Couriers walked briskly. The red brick roof housed a collection of unlucky dead that evening, Khadgar was intent on getting in. </p><p> </p><p>He kept pace with someone he assumed to be a courier based on the stack of letters she retrieved from her bag. She regarded him with an odd look but said nothing as they both passed into the inner workings of the barracks. The courier continued ahead whilst Khadgar veered to the right, following the pull of the arcane. To his immense surprise, the room was unguarded. He suspected this to be a momentary thing and ducked inside. Immediately wrapping his cloak around his mouth and nose to protect himself from the smell. With a grim determination, he set to work inspecting the corpses. </p><p> </p><p>Not all, he was pleased to note, had their lifeforce leached by the fel. Axe wounds, crushed skulls, fatal battle wounds not unheard of. He worked with haste, fingers bumping against wood that had no business shocking him the way it did. Khadgar looked up, a door loomed before him. A door that, despite being inanimate and having no part in this deadly game, managed to fill him with dread. He swallowed any fear he felt rising in his throat and pushed it open. </p><p> </p><p>The same sunken eyes from the cart greeted him. For a moment, he was rooted to the spot. That moment ended however when an armoured body crashed into him, pinning him to the ground and forcing his arms behind his back. <em>Ah</em>. He thought as pain twinged up his arm. <em>I guess that means the guard is back.</em></p><p> </p><p>Khadgar waited in a room so dark it may as well have been a prison cell. He lit a few of the candles, at least a little better. He seemed to be in a soldiers simple room at the barracks, battle plans strewn across the desk, various books on the art of war littered around. He wondered whose room this was. He hoped it wasn’t one of the dead. Sinking into the desk chair he leafed through one of the books, anger bubbling. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t blame the guards though, not really. After all, he <em>was</em> found searching the bodies of the recently deceased. For all they knew he could be a pickpocket, or some necro...liking...guy. Hell he could have even been the one to cause this, though he suspected he’d be locked in far worse than a humble room if they had even considered that. He had tried to tell them, but his pleas fell on death ears. Someone would come, he told himself. Someone would listen. </p><p> </p><p>Outside the door, somewhere down the hall, the sound of footsteps echoed, questioning voices raised and fell. They stopped. He sighed and diligently turned a page in his book, finding it somewhat interesting. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar became so engrossed in the text he didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until the door swung open, allowing for a stony-faced man to enter. Khadgar watched as he closed the door on his two comrades. He noted the blue eyes, the unkempt wild hair, slick with sweat from a hard day’s work beating people up, or whatever it is this man did. He noted the confidence with which he held himself. Like a storybook hero, if you had dropped the book out the window and thoroughly pissed off the hero living inside.</p><p> </p><p>“Finally!” Khadgar rushed to say, almost forgetting himself. He flipped the book to the side. “Are you in command?”</p><p> </p><p>He raised his arms in question, well used to gesturing to further make his point. Perhaps a mage thing. Perhaps a nervous thing. </p><p> </p><p>What it wasn’t, was a successful thing. He learned that the hard way. He felt the man's hand lock onto his wrist, using his other hand to push Khadgar back onto the table. If he wasn’t so stuck in fight or flight, he would have found the time to be annoyed at how easy it was for the man to topple him. With fluid moments, before Khadgar’s brain had caught up with him, he was pinned down by a compass trapping his arm and cloak. Great. Pain flared through his head where it had connected with the wood. He felt his sleeve ripped up with a practised movement and knowing what was on show, couldn’t help what came next.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Shala'ros!-” </em>He started, not knowing what was going on, but deciding now was a good time to start defending himself. The words, however, died on his lips as the stronger man clasped his hand over his mouth. His grip tight. He had done this before, another thought Khadgar did not have the time to think. </p><p> </p><p>The spell rose and danced around his palm, eager and ready. He tried to tear himself from the hand and the compass that kept him pinned. Arcane began to fade, ebbing back, annoyed. Khadgar laughed, he didn’t know why. The realisation of how stupid everything he had done in the past few months catching up to him. The chuckle was muffled against the other man's palm. He watched as his eyes followed the arcane with a foreign disinterest before bright blue eyes met his own dark ones. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s the mark of the Kirin Tor.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer, couldn’t even if he wanted to. This damn hand prevented it. If he found himself looking into this impetuous man’s eyes a beat too long, it was only because there was nowhere else to look. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing in my city spell-chucker?” he asked, leaning over. </p><p> </p><p>If Khadgar hadn’t been looking into his eyes he might have missed the flash of something that crossed over them. Hope? Hurt? Hard to tell. But point to Khadgar. For noticing. </p><p> </p><p>This time Khadgar was sure he was supposed to respond, it was a question after all. Yet the hand remained secured to his mouth. It was only when the man’s gaze flickered to the spell that still lingered on his raised palm that he realised he hadn’t released it. He exhaled and the light dimmed around him. If the arcane could sulk, it was sulking now. </p><p> </p><p>Once he was sure the spell had dissipated, he felt the hand pull away. He didn’t know how to explain what he was doing here, especially not whilst in this position.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me complete the examination of the body across the hall.” He said in lieu of an explanation. He felt his anger evaporate halfway through his sentence, replaced with the urgency the situation demanded. </p><p> </p><p>The other man, whom Khadgar was tired of referring to him in his head as thus, smirked. His arm rested on Khadgar's own and he pressed down. He tried to pretend it didn’t hurt.</p><p> </p><p>“Now why would I do that?” he questioned and honestly, good question. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily, Khadgar had a good answer. </p><p> </p><p>“Within that body is the secret to your attacks.” He said, sounding more sure of himself than he felt. His eyes flickered between both of the ones staring back at him. He saw something else flash across them. Another point to Khadgar. </p><p> </p><p>The compass was ripped from where it pinned him down and Khadgar stumbled to his feet. The other man was already heading back towards the door. He noticed two other guards peering in through the window and ducked his head in embarrassment. This was going to be a lot of things, interesting was one of them. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The boys have met and here! we! go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All great adventures start at an Inn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Gentle light cascaded through the open window, basking the inhabitants of the small room in a soft glow. Lothar found himself squinting against it, anything to look away from the shrivelled husk of one of his soldiers. He clenched his fists, fingers cramping under the strain. If they hadn’t have let Medivh go ahead with this idiotic plan, this wouldn’t have happened. This man would still be alive. His family would not have to mourn, his children would not have to grow without him. </p><p> </p><p>How many mages had they been through? How many had the Kirin Tor sent to Medivh, only for him to turn them away, or for them to run for the hills? How many months, years had they waited? Perhaps the mage they needed had already come and gone. Perhaps they didn't exist at all. The creak of floorboards dragged Lothars' attention to the newest candidate in front of him.  He seemed unassuming enough, young, and lacking in the kind of muscle his soldiers prided themselves in. His eyes were unsettlingly deep, brimming with knowledge. His brow knitted in concentration as he prepared himself for the task ahead. Lother knew better than to underestimate a mage, but that certainly didn’t mean he could trust them. He cast his mind back to the blue glow that snaked around the mages' hand. True, that seemed a promising start, but a colour is just a colour. Other mages had been able to conjure a similar shade. It had seemed brighter somehow, but he chalked that up to his imagination. This whole plan, he reminded himself, was stupid. </p><p> </p><p>He realised he didn’t have a name for the man in front of him. In the same breath, he realised now was not the best time to ask, hovering over a dead body as they were. Instead, he feigned indifference as he watched. The mages’ grimace twitched. He reached out, movement faltering for a moment before he sighed. He shook only slightly as two of his fingers reached into the corpses’ mouth. Another hand rested on the cold and clammy forehead of the deceased, holding it steady as he pulled the jaw down. </p><p> </p><p>Lothar leant over, this certainly was unlike most examinations he had seen. He didn’t know what he expected to see, or how this was supposed to help him figure out the attacks. Grimly, he imagined a little goblin clawing out of his mouth and exclaiming “It was me! Me all along! You caught me!”</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head, these mad times were succeeding only in turning him mad with them. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar’s quick retreat alerted him before he even saw the green expulsion. He saw the younger man repel, pulling his sleeve up to cover his mouth. The suddenness of the movement shocked him, jolting him back just in time to avoid the green gas. When he blinked it had already gone. If it weren’t for the mage’s wide eyes or the sound of steel as Karos, his lieutenant, gripped his sword, he would have thought he imagined it. </p><p> </p><p>He pointed at the body, words unable to stumble out of his mouth for a moment. Confused eyes flicking from the offending body to the mage. “What was that?” he asked, words tumbling. He glanced at the younger man for an answer, when none immediately came he glanced back at the corpse. In the back of his mind, Medivh’s confession played on repeat. He hopes, beyond all hope, that this was not what he thought it was. That the fel was not already being used against them, not before they even knew what it was. </p><p> </p><p>“You must summon the Guardian.” the mage said, but he wasn’t looking at him. His fingers seemed to be gesturing towards him, but his eyes were elsewhere. Expression flickering between fear, understanding, and urgency. </p><p> </p><p>“Medivh?” Karos asked, confusion etched into his features. </p><p> </p><p>“It should be he who explains it.” the young man said. His dark eyes seemed unable to find a spot to rest on, lifetimes of questions flickering beneath the surface. </p><p> </p><p>Lothar stared at him as silence permeated the air. He cocked his head, surveying the mage. A coincidence surely. A coincidence that this mage would know of the fel and would mention their Guardian. A sick joke the universe was playing on him. </p><p> </p><p>“Only the king summons the Guardian.” He said, watching the young man swallow the response he had formed. The mage looked at him expectantly and he hesitated, feeling his head duck away from the intensity of his stare. “Get him to Goldshire,” he said to Karos. He ignored the startled look on his lieutenants' face, ignored them both as he stalked from the room. </p><p> </p><p>Karos glanced apologetically at Khadgar, who shrugged in response.</p><p> </p><p>“I have other business I must attend to here,” Karos said, gesturing sadly to the halls of the dead. “I will assign a guard to you to ensure safe passage to Goldshire.”</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar nodded, stumbling over a thank you as he was gestured out the room, glancing back at the withered body on the table before he left. He had felt the fel in the surroundings. Had smelt it on the earth, but this? Such dark proof of his theory. The guardian had to know about this. He had to do something about this. Perhaps he could fix it in the span of an afternoon. Khadgar could return to the Kirin Tor a hero, finish his training and spend the rest of his days in a comfortable room that feels like home. He could help people and retire a content old man. A simple life. </p><p> </p><p>Karos introduced him to a barrel-chested boy younger than he was. His name was Callan and something in his keen eyes reminded Khadgar of the man from before. The confidence of a proud soldier he assumed. The soldier clasped his wrist with his hand and Khadgar shook from the memory of being flung over a table. However, the boy merely shook his hand and Khadgar reciprocated through gritted teeth. </p><p> </p><p>“Watch this one,” Karos said to the soldier, he made some strange motion with his hands that mimicked spell casting. Callan raised his eyebrow, glancing at Khadgar with the ghost of a smile on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you Karos.” He said, nodding at the older man and turning on his heel. Khadgar jogged to catch up with him, growing very tired of soldiers stalking away from him. They stopped at the stables to borrow some horses. Khadgar released a huff at the notion he did not know how to mount a horse. Then, haughtily, he spent the next five minutes struggling onto the beasts back. Once successful he smiled triumphantly down at Callan who rolled his eyes and effortlessly mounted his horse. Khadgar grumbled something under his breath and heard Callan laugh. In another life, perhaps they could have been friends. </p><p> </p><p>Lothar plummeted to the ground, gryphon talons skidding across the path. He dismounted, gave the creature a pat on the beak and offered a slab of meat which was eagerly accepted. The gryphon jumped from claw to claw and dove into its meal. He regarded the creature with a fond smile before he ducked into the Inn ahead of them.</p><p> </p><p>A man with a lute practiced cheery music, sat atop one of the tables as a few locals danced around him. The booths overflowed with patrons, all laughing and smiling, clinking mugs in the air and cheering as froth splattered across the table. The rustic, smoke-stained inn was always so full of life.</p><p> </p><p>In one corner, next to an underused fireplace, Llane and Taria leaned over a table. Soldiers busied themselves around them, trying not to interrupt their hushed conversation. Lothar signalled to the bartender and soon enough his fingers were wrapped around a tankard. He gulped the contents noisily, wiping his sleeve across his mouth as he approached the table, the two glancing up at his presence. </p><p> </p><p>“A mage you said?” Llane started in hushed tones, straightening his back.</p><p> </p><p>Lothar nodded. “Aye, another of many.” </p><p> </p><p>“But this one already knew of the fel?” Taria asked, nestling her finger under her chin.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, yes. But it could just be a coincidence.” Lothar rested his tankard on the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course. A coincidence, A coincidence that he has prior knowledge of the fel. A coincidence that he asked to summon the Guardian. A coincidence that he met you first.”</p><p> </p><p>Lothar scowled, wishing he had another ale to dull the strange feeling rising in his chest. “It’s not him,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>“I’d have thought you’d be pleased.” </p><p> </p><p>“I would have been, had we not had this conversation too many times. We are running out of time. We cannot trust that this kid is the one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well then.” Llane said. “We had better hope that he is.” </p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>The journey had taken them from dusk until nightfall. They rode silently for the most part, Callan making the occasional remark about their surroundings. Cutpurses like it here, saw some murlocs there yesterday, great view of the lake here. Khadgar mm’d and ah’d respectfully, his attention drawn to the memory of those sunken eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s all the fuss about then?” Callan asked, his casual tone morphed into one of curiosity.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm?” </p><p> </p><p>“With all this. With you.” Callan said, twisting in his saddle to gesture at him. “It’s not every day some stranger gets an immediate audience with the King. Especially not one that comes with an escort.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Khadgar said. “Uh.” Could he tell him? Most people don’t take it too well when you tell them the world’s going to end. “I have important information,” he settled on because it was true. True and mysterious enough that perhaps the young knight would accept it. </p><p> </p><p>“Information on what?” </p><p> </p><p><em> Drat. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you know…” He began, searching his vocabulary for something that might help him. “...Stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Smooth. Real smooth you absolute idiot. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Callan laughed, shaking his head and facing the road again. “Alright then. You mages and your secrets.”</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar released a shaky breath, glancing sideways as they crossed the bridge. A Murloc stood proudly on a rock, waving a fish at him. He smiled back at the creature, offering it a little wave. </p><p> </p><p>“MRRGLRLRLRMGRR”</p><p> </p><p>To his credit, Callan didn’t outwardly laugh at the way the mage jumped in his saddle. </p><p> </p><p>Night had fallen by the time they rode into town. Dismounting was partially easier than mounting, thank the light. They tethered the horses up and Khadgar followed Callan’s lead, ducking into the spirited, light tavern. </p><p> </p><p>The conversation around the table had turned to the reports of beasts responsible for many of their attacks. They didn’t look up as two men stepped into the warmth. Lothar hovered by the fireplace, thankful it had been lit that night. He heard them before he saw them, he would know that clink of armour anywhere. He turned slowly and took in the approaching form of his son and his charge. There was a look in the young mages’ eyes that caused him a moment's pause. He had never met anyone so arrogant, or so stupid, as to beeline for a king surrounded by soldiers who didn’t know him. </p><p> </p><p>“How does a garrison of thirty men disappear without a whisper?” Llane asked the gathered party. Even with Medivhs’ knowledge, little made sense in this new world. Try as he might, he rarely understood the powers at play. </p><p> </p><p>“The Fel,” Khadgar said, all previous trepidations gone from his voice which was a pleasant surprise for himself.</p><p> </p><p>Lothar hovered at Llanes’ shoulder, eyes twinkling. This mage had the gall to interrupt royal business too? His confidence was astounding, albeit very misplaced. </p><p> </p><p>Llane’s head snapped up to the source of the sound and suddenly Khadgar felt many pairs of eyes on him. “Or at least its influence.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt an armoured hand bat against his chest before he realised he was approaching the table, he looked at the offender, Callan, with a wounded glare. </p><p> </p><p>Taria looked the newcomer up and down, either this was their expected mage or an overly confident madman. Behind her, Llane leaned back, tired eyes searching for Lothar’s own</p><p> </p><p>“Is this him?” he asked. He wasn’t exactly the all-powerful mage he had expected, there seemed to be no trace of power on the boy at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmhmm,” Lothar responded. This could not be their mage. Lothar would bet on it. There was something about the younger man that infuriated him, something he didn’t understand. Not understanding things was becoming quite the theme these days. Lothar didn’t like what he didn’t understand, thus, he didn’t like this mage. It all made perfect sense to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Your Majesty,” Khadgar said with a slight bow, suddenly remembering where he was and who he was speaking to. Despite the presence of the literal King, he felt his gaze shift to the approaching form of the man he met earlier. He watched as he shared a strange look with the Queen. Watched as his bright blue eyes travelled over him dismissively. Watched as they fell upon the knight next to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Dad,” Callan said by way of greeting. Khadgar shot him an incredulous look. That kind of revelation would have been handy to know before he considered the possibility of befriending the man. Even if it were in another life, Khadgar wasn’t sure any version of him could stand the accusing glares Callan’s father often sent his way. </p><p> </p><p>“So, who are you mage?” Llane asked and Khadgar’s attention tore back to him. He sounded angry, the last word drawing out like a threat. Did everybody in this Kingdom hate him? Was it something he said? </p><p> </p><p>He suddenly noticed the body blocking him from the table, suddenly noticed that Callan had gone. Khadgar glanced at the Champion, refusing to rise to the challenge in his eyes and started forwards. He was somewhat surprised that the older man stepped back to allow him, a challenge still shining in the gaze Khadgar wouldn’t meet. </p><p> </p><p>“My name is Khadgar,” he said to no reaction. “The Guardian novitiate.” </p><p> </p><p>The kings’ gaze softened a fraction and Khadgar found himself stumbling over his words. “I-I was, I renounced my vows.” </p><p> </p><p>At that, Llane could not hide the surprise that shot across his features. Lothar chuckled, finally having a name for the thing-he-didn’t-like. Khadgar. </p><p> </p><p>“You mean you’re a fugitive?” he asked, enjoying how easy it was to get a rise out of this Khadgar.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not hiding” Khadgar tried to explain to the soldier, only to be reminded by a patronising point of a finger that it was the King he was trying to convince. Not this incredibly frustrating man. Thinking better of it than to continue this back and forth, he advanced on the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Your Majesty. I may have left my training but I did not leave my abilities behind.” Quite the opposite Khadgar thought. Real-world application greatly trumped theory any day. He felt all eyes on him again and fought the flush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. “I’ve sensed something,” he continued. “Dark forces. When it’s strong, it almost has a smell. Knowing that something so evil was so close, I couldn’t just ignore it. We must engage the Guardian”</p><p> </p><p>There was something strange about the smile that had appeared on the Kings' lips. The strangest being that he was smiling in the first place. Khadgar had just told him about the fel, right? Had he accidentally told a joke? </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t have much time to ponder it, everyone suddenly moving all at once. Shouts, clamors, readying. Someone had seen smoke. Someone had seen fire. People were moving all around him and Khadgar stood, rather uselessly, in the middle of the room. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s him,” Taria said smugly. Lothar could only roll his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“And you know that how?” </p><p> </p><p>“I just do.” She shrugged as if it were obvious. </p><p> </p><p>They were nestled into a corner by an upstairs window. Lothar looking out at the distant fire, Taria trying, and succeeding, to annoy him away from his perch. </p><p> </p><p>“What makes you so sure that he isn’t?” Taria asked. “And don’t you say it’s because he doesn’t look threatening. People used to say that of Medivh remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Lothar grimaced. He didn’t have a reason. He didn’t need a reason. It had been six years since the Guardian had isolated himself. They tried often to contact him, to interject into his life without success. They didn’t know how much of their Guardian remained. Now he is expected to feel joy at the arrival of a small man in a small cloak with soft but fearless eyes and a confidence reserved for much broader men? He couldn’t find it within himself to do so. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily, he was spared answering by the arrival of Llane. Unluckily, the smile on his face told Lothar that he, too, was convinced of Khadgar’s brilliance. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s the one,” he said and Lothar buried his face into his hands. “Anduin, we do not have any other options.” </p><p> </p><p>Llanes’ expression had turned taut. He knew what must be done next, knew what the consequences must be. If he were to summon the Guardian now, he would start the chain of events that may lead to Azeroth’s downfall. If this mage were not the one from the vision, he would likely be hurt, could even perish in the ensuing carnage. And yet, and yet he had no choice. They had waited, bid their time long enough. Mages came and mages went and the world around them continued darkening bit by tiny bit. They had to act now. If Khadgar wasn’t the one, he had damn well better become the one quickly. </p><p> </p><p>With deft movements he removed his signet ring, holding it out to Lothar. </p><p> </p><p>“He can’t hide from us now.” He said. “And we can hide from him no longer. The Guardian is summoned.”</p><p> </p><p>Lothar felt his gaze travel to the young mage downstairs. Who, without an audience to prove his worth to, seemed to have sunken inwards. He looked smaller, less sure of himself. Wide eyes surveyed the room in its entirety, glancing from soldier to soldier, battle plan to battle plan. His eyes met Lothar’s and the soldier sucked in a breath. Could mages read minds? No, that’s ridiculous. Besides, Lothar’s mind had gone infuriatingly blank during this impromptu staring competition. The mage seemed confused, his eyes searching for an answer that he was not ready for. In the end, it was Lothar who looked away first, having grown uncomfortable under the scrutiny. </p><p> </p><p>He gripped the ring in his hands, feeling the grooves dig into his skin.  Lothar felt the mages’ eyes on him as he descended the staircase and his ears reddened without his permission. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to see the Guardian.” He said, heavy footfalls coming to an easy stop before Khadgar. </p><p> </p><p>First, Khadgar appeared victorious, then pleased, then confused. Mortified even. Spluttering, he tripped over his words. “We? As in, uh, as in the royal we right? Like you’re going. Not we as in, we, uh, us. You and I. Right?”</p><p> </p><p>Lothar swallowed his laugh, raising his eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s just...Well, I thought…” he hesitated. “I don’t know what I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“We ride out soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re taking horses to Karazhan?!” Khadgar balked and this time Lothar couldn’t suppress the laugh that burst forth.</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite.” He said by way of explanation as he turned away from Khadgar. The mage scowled at Lothar’s back, why did people keep doing that?</p><p> </p><p>Other soldiers bustled around him, reminding Khadgar that he was very much in the way. He hastened to follow the other man, ducking out of the inn and emerging into the cool air. The Champion stood a few paces ahead of him, ruffling the feathers of the largest gryphon Khadgar had ever seen. </p><p> </p><p>“No. Absolutely not.” He said, responding to a question that hadn’t even been asked yet. </p><p> </p><p>“Is something the matter?”  A gentle voice asked and Khadgar turned to see Taria at his side. She didn’t seem to be judging him, nor laughing at him. Khadgar liked Taria. </p><p> </p><p>“I just, I mean, It’s-” Khadgar’s mind raced, trying to think of some excuse that wouldn’t expose him as a petulant, cowardly man child. “-I’m not getting on a gryphon with a man whose name I don’t even know.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, so much for not appearing like an idiot. </p><p> </p><p>At that, Taria did laugh, faint and soft, but not cruel. Khadgar couldn’t help but smile back despite the embarrassed flush of rouge tinting his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“Anduin Lothar.” She smiled. “Commander, Champion, General pain in the arse. My brother.”</p><p> </p><p>Is this man related to everyone? Khadgar half expected the Guardian to be introduced to him as Lothar’s second cousin. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” He said, not knowing what else to say. There’s his excuse out the proverbial window. Khadgar became aware of the presence of the King, he looked away as Llane and Taria shared a look that he felt was not for his eyes. Callan joined them shortly after, having finished up the last of his plans. </p><p> </p><p>Lothar pulled himself effortlessly onto the beast, the gryphon leaning down to aid him further. For a brief moment Khadgar considered portalling to Karazhan, but who's to say what strange wards protected the building. Who's to say he’d even make it in one piece. To this day he had still only teleported once, and whilst successful, he did lose half the day to vomiting behind a tree. So, the gryphon it was. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar felt Lothar’s gaze on him. When he met it, Lothar nodded to the back of the gryphon. “Get on.” He said simply. Because truly, it was a simple concept. He crept towards the creature, holding his breath as large wings began to unfurl. Its intelligent eyes seemed to bore into him and with a shake of her head, seemed to decide Khadgar was trustworthy enough. It settled close to the ground, making it easier for Khadgar to mount. This at least, was very fortunate. He had not been keen to make a fool of himself before the King and his Champion. </p><p> </p><p>“Good luck.” Llane said. Again, there was something about his tone Khadgar couldn’t place. He seemed to be referring to multiple different things at once. Why would they even need luck? The guardian was a friend to Stormwind was he not? The Gryphon would get them there with no trouble. It unsettled Khadgar, worried him even more how it had been directed at him. Had he more time, he might have questioned the King further. As it was, the winged beast rose onto its hindquarters, with a screech and a mighty beat of her wings they were thrust into the air. Khadgar could only swallow his yelp, scrambling to grip around Lothars’ waist before he was thrown off. Pressed close, Khadgar could feel the vibrations of Lothars’ chest as he laughed. </p><p> </p><p>It was okay. It was all going to be okay. All they needed to do was inform the Guardian, then Khadgar’s duty was done. Nothing could possibly go wrong.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise after this chapter we'll be moving on from movie scenes! Just had to set the scene for the rest of the story! </p><p>The next chapter will deviate more from movie plot now that all the key players are in place and the dominoes are ready to fall!</p><p>Also, I was considering making a Tumblr for the first time in years to fully reimmerse myself back into this fandom, I'll let you know if I do :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Guardian. The Champion. The Mage.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>The long ride gave both men ample time to think. The air was thin and cold, preventing them from voicing their opinions even if they wished too. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar had tried to just hold onto the saddle once they had balanced out but he didn’t have enough faith in his own arms for that venture to last very long. Lothar didn’t seem to mind the life being squeezed out of him every time they made a turn, and if he did get made fun of for it, at least he’d still be alive. </p><p> </p><p>The view from this height was astounding, but Khadgar spent little time sinking it all in. His brow was furrowed in concentration, trying to make sense of the situation he had found himself in. Now he had the time to think about it, wasn’t it odd how nobody asked him what the fel was? It was hardly common knowledge. Nobody even showed the slightest sign of confusion, save for the guards who knew it wasn’t their place to cut in and ask. And then there was the smile so readily offered by the King. The blessing of luck bestowed upon them for what should, in theory, be a simple task. None of it made any sense, but then again, not a lot of this new world made sense anymore. Perhaps the guardian could shed some light on the conversation. Maybe Stormwind had known of the fel but their research never reached the Kirin Tor? Unlikely. But it was the only theory he was working with. He released a deep breath, it would do nobody any good panicking at such a height. People, he determined, are odd, unusual, and confusing. You can never tell how one is going to react to something. If he still felt a seed of dread in his stomach, Khadgar resolved to simply not think about it until he had more information to thoroughly de-root it. As for now, his thought stream must turn to the guardian, to what he intended to say upon their arrival. He played conversations over and over in his head, trying to decide on the best course of action. </p><p> </p><p>Lothar, for his part, had also fallen deep in thought. His gryphon was so well trained she required little correction on their route and so Lothar had let his mind wander. It had been six long years since he last saw Medivh. He had visited then with Llane, brought with them decades worth of memories of their youth together in the hope of connecting with whatever was left of their friend. It had been immeasurably difficult to pretend as if they had no suspicions, as if they were not worried. Whatever it was living inside of Medivh could not discover their plan, and so they left in high spirits, waving goodbye to their friend and trying their absolute best not to scream. Lothar had hated it. It was obvious to anyone who knew him that Medivh was not himself, but with a dismissive wave and the excuse he was simply tired, Lothar had no choice but to buy it. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he had it in him to see Medivh like that again. He didn’t want his memories of his friend to be tainted by this shadow. Especially not if his dark premonition proved to be true, and he was destined to perish before this was over. He hoped history might forgive him for allowing this plague to curse his lands, but it wasn’t really history’s forgiveness he craved. It was Medivh’s. True, it was his decision, his choice. But Lothar could have tried harder to stop it. Could have found an alternate solution instead of just yelling at the King. What if Medivh regretted it? What if he was wrong? What if he was already dead and this demon was playing them for fools? </p><p> </p><p>The grip that occasionally tightened around his waist grounded him to the moment, bringing his wandering mind back each time just before it strayed too far into dark territory. He was very grateful for it, not that he would ever admit it. The silence was comforting and he basked in it as long as he could, knowing such comfort would evaporate as soon as they reached that godforsaken tower.</p><p>There was to be a burial for the garrison soldiers tomorrow that he remembered grimly. It wouldn’t be very good if some arsehole of a demon killed him today. He would bite his tongue, feign a smile. He had to be convincing, the role of a lifetime with a very captive audience. One, a man trapped inside his own body. Two, a demon using said body. And three, a young mage who under no circumstances was allowed to think that anything was amiss. Lothar hadn’t flexed his acting skills in a long time, he performed in a small play once when he was maybe twelve years old, and even then he only took part to be with his friend, Cally. A sharp pain cut across his chest and he wheezed, feeling fingers grip into the fabric of his tunic in alarm. The gryphon shifted underneath them, neither man said a word. Neither man had to. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t long before the grey, timeworn tower loomed above them, mountains paving way for an undisturbed view of its brilliance. Khadgar found his breath caught in his throat, jaw agape in awe. He had seen drawings and depictions, but no tracing could ever compare to the real thing. Khadgar could sense the raw power of the place, it radiated in waves around them and he felt almost giddy. It was the closest to being drunk he had ever felt. </p><p> </p><p>With gentle beats of the gryphon's wings they floated to a landing and dismounted, Khadgar immeasurably grateful to have solid ground beneath his feet again. He glanced at the tormented expression playing across Lothar’s face and he cocked his head. Weren’t the champion and the guardian good friends? Lothar’s gaze met his own and in a flash, his expression came alive with well-practised glee. Khadgar blinked, even more confused than before. Perhaps Lothar was still concerned about the garrison, about the fel infested body of his soldier. It was unfair to expect him to have moved on so quickly, and so Khadgar allowed him his confusing rotation of facial expressions, much to the delight of the seasoned soldier who owned them.</p><p> </p><p>Moroes came out to greet them, looking pleased in a manner that suggested he had not looked pleased for a long time. Khadgar found something immensely curious about the skinny, almost ghostly man. A pair of blinders shielded his vision and Khadgar just knew there was a story there. He looked every bit a man perturbed by nothing, weathered only by the storms of time. Even with his blinkers on he sensed Khadgar’s gaze and turned to look at him expectantly. He squirmed under the stewards calculating glare, fidgeted as his gaze wandered to his arm. His mark was covered by his sleeve, and yet Moroes seemed to know exactly what was there regardless. Moroes scoffed, finally turning his disdainful eyes away from Khadgar and the young mage allowed himself to breath again. Lothar looked at him as if everything that just happened was Khadgar’s fault and he could only shrug in response. Maybe it was. People were, as he had concluded, odd. </p><p> </p><p>“Should I ask Cook to prepare a meal?” Moroes asked.</p><p> </p><p>Lothar shook his head. “We will not be staying long.” </p><p> </p><p>Under different circumstances, Lothar would leave his charge in the library whilst he ascended the many stairs to the top of the tower. As it was, however, the king and queen had decided that this mage was immeasurably important and to take his eyes off him now would be reckless. He followed Moroes to the staircase, climbed a few steps, glanced back to see if Khadgar was following. </p><p> </p><p>He was not. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar stood in the library gazing at the vast sea of knowledge around him. It far trumped even the libraries of the Kirin Tor. Stalking across the room towards him, Lothar noticed the mage jolt as if he had been shocked, his fingers toyed with the hem of his sleeve as if about to lift it when Lothar’s hand clapped down on his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Touch nothing.” He said, steering Khadgar away from the bookcases despite his protests and pushing him up the staircase. </p><p> </p><p>“The bannisters have just been polished,” Moroes noted as they caught back up with him. “Please do not ruin them.”</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar nodded by instinct, barely listening. His mind was too busy trying to figure out what on earth that feeling in his wrist had been and, most importantly, why it had started. He doubted Lothar would care, and didn’t trust this new man enough to voice his concerns and so he continued putting one foot in front of the other, occasionally gripping the bannister to regain his balance and steadfastly ignoring Moroes’ complaints. </p><p> </p><p>They eventually reached the top after what could have been a lifetime. Both Khadgar and Lothar racked their lungs for breath whilst Moroes seemed perfectly unaffected. The two found some small comradery in their shared pain and embarrassment before Lothar seemed to remember who he was and grimaced. He walked away from Khadgar in a fashion the mage was becoming infuriatingly accustomed to, forcing him to suck in a deep gulp of air and follow behind. </p><p> </p><p>“Medivh!” Lothar greeted through a tight-lipped smile. “It is good to see you, my friend!” </p><p> </p><p>Medivh turned, his expression void and empty as his tired eyes met Lothars’. After a beat, he smiled. </p><p> </p><p>“Anduin!” He said, gaze travelling to the Khadgar. “And a guest.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Khadgar.” The young mage said.</p><p> </p><p>Medivh seemed to mull over his name for a moment, tasting it on his lips.” “Khadgar,” he drawled and Khadgar nodded. Yes, that was indeed his name. “You are the guardian novitiate are you not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Or, I mean, I was. I renounced my vows to come here.”</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar suddenly felt very out of place and unsure of himself. Was he supposed to bow? Was there a salute he should know? He looked to Lothar for some hint but found the older man staring at the large, half-finished golem in the corner. Khadgar wondered how he hadn’t even noticed it, the sheer size of the construction took up such a large portion of the room. He rested his gaze back on the guardian and noted the dark circles underneath his eyes with a pang of sympathy. He too knew the perils of tiredness all too well. Khadgar didn’t quite know what else to say, his whole life had seemed to lead to this moment, every lonely day with the Kirin Tor to prepare him for this, and yet he had no idea what he was doing. </p><p> </p><p>Not that Khadgar had ever had a friend to reunite with, but he was sure reunions were usually more talkative than this. As it was, Lothar stood a silent presence beside him whilst Medivh busied himself with cleaning his tools. </p><p> </p><p>“Medivh-” Lothar began, having become aware of the stretching silence. This was far harder than he expected it to be. He could tell Medivh was still there, suspected that they were talking to him now. But, be that as it may, Lothar could not forget the demon lurking beneath, listening, waiting. He could do nothing but smile dumbly as one might after not seeing a friend for a long time. Before he could finish what he was going to say, Medivh interrupted, and thankfully so, Lothar had no idea where that sentence was heading.</p><p> </p><p>“I trust you are not here on pleasant business,” he said, drifting towards them.</p><p> </p><p>“Right as always.” Lothar sighed, schooling his expression into something more serious. “What gave it away?”</p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t visited in six years.”</p><p> </p><p>Lothar visibly recoiled, anger burning in his eyes in the split moment that his mask was broken. How dare he? Lothar had tried everything, he had even flown here multiple times only to be turned away. Letter after letter sent with no reply. Some days, Lothar had spent more time trying to contact Medivh than he had spent doing his actual job. It was a momentary thing, the flash of anger and pain across his features. He hoped Medivh didn’t see it. </p><p> </p><p>Medivh didn’t, but Khadgar did. </p><p> </p><p>“Also, you are holding Llanes’ signet ring. So I imagine I have been summoned? What is the cause?”</p><p> </p><p>“The fel.” Khadgar interrupted. He hadn’t quite meant to, but based on how everyone was looking at him now anyway, he guessed he should continue. “The fel has infected Azeroth. We don’t know how, when, or why. But we have seen it, and it is being used against us.”</p><p> </p><p>Medivh quirked his eyebrow, interest piqued. “What do you know of the fel?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Not much,” Khadgar admitted. “But I have been researching it, what it can do, where it might have come from. The answers have been, uh, inconclusive.”</p><p> </p><p>Medivh nodded and Khadgars’ notion that the guardian had some knowledge of the fel was proven right, now he only had to hope he knew how to stop it. </p><p> </p><p>“The fel is a dark, dangerous thing,” Medivh said, Lothar almost snapped his neck with how fast he turned to look at him. “It promises great power, and demands an even greater sacrifice.”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of sacrifice?” Lothar asked through gritted teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“Life,” Medivh said, his gaze distant. “If the fel has truly infected Azeroth, we may already be doomed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Doomed?!” Khadgar repeated, hoping he had misheard. “Is there no way to stop it?”</p><p> </p><p>“If there is one,” Medivh sighed, “I have not found it.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Khadgar deflated. This had been his great plan. Admittedly, it wasn't very well thought through. He had not planned for any alternatives, there was no plan B. All he had succeeded in doing is letting people know they were going to die a horrible, painful, worthless death before they died a horrible, painful, worthless death. He had failed, he was distraught. Next to him, Lothar was - bouncing? </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar blinked, brows furrowed as he looked at the soldier who was indeed bouncing slightly from foot to foot. He held his hands firmly behind his back and the unbroken stare directed towards Medivh was full of so many contradictions it gave Khadgar a headache just to look at it. Moroes shuffled something behind them and Khadgar was reminded of the presence of a grown man who wore <em>blinkers</em>. Not for the first time since starting this doomed quest, Khadgar was at a loss for words. </p><p> </p><p>“We need your help to understand this new threat,” Lothar said, voice unwavering despite the fluctuations of his heart. He was very aware of Khadgars’ eyes on him and was determined to play his part in this vicious mockery perfectly. “Please, friend, come back with us to Stormwind. Azeroth needs you, we need you.”</p><p> </p><p>Medivh nodded in agreement. “Yes. If what you say is true, we are already losing time.” </p><p> </p><p>His concern seemed genuine, Lothar hated that even more than the alternative. He could loathe a demon, it was harder if it used the body of a friend, but he could do it. He could not loathe a friend who still pertained some of his true self. </p><p> </p><p>"You were to be my novitiate?" Medivh asked, stepping closer to Khadgar. Lothar's sword arm twitched.<br/><br/></p><p>"Uh, yes?" </p><p> </p><p>Medivh nodded, staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. He seemed to find something amusing, turning away with a scoff. Before anyone else could interject, Medivh had started summoning. Wisps of arcane flew in steady bursts around his runes and Khadgar recognised a far more perfected teleportation spell than his own crude interpretation. </p><p> </p><p>“Get in.” Medivh muttered between summons, and the two men obliged.  Lothar sighed, wishing he had the time to go tell his gryphon to head home without them. She was intelligent and would figure it out on her own, but it would take some time of impatient waiting and she would be miffed at him for a while. Khadgar glanced at the two men, at the descending form of Moroes as he disappeared down the stairs, at the streaks of arcane painting the air around them. Steadily, as the arcane grew, Khadgar’s wrist began to burn and itch. Something, somewhere, was screaming at him. His wide eyes met Lothars’ and with a purposeful stumble, he toppled from the glowing circle around Medivh, cursing for good measure. Lothars eyes blew wide, mouth hanging open on an exclamation before suddenly, they were gone. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar stood in the middle of the room, panting, and alone.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for all your kind words of support! It really means a lot to me that you are enjoying this story. </p><p>Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliff hanger! I hope to get the next chapter up tomorrow or the day after so you won't have to wait too long!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Who watches the watcher?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No!-”</p><p>In a sudden rush of air, Medivh and Lothar landed in the throne room. Lothar’s hand shot out in front of him, grabbing the empty space next to Medivh. He misstepped in his haste, almost tripping into him before regaining his balance. A circle of spears surrounded them and Lothar whipped around to regard Llane with wild eyes. This was not going to plan. </p><p>“Medivh!” Llanes’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. Soon after, it fell from his face entirely. “Where is the mage? Khadgar?”</p><p>“He fell from the portal,” Medivh stated. “Teleportation is a difficult process. Not everyone is suited to it. I suspect it was too much for him.”</p><p>Lothar glowered at him. Panic rose in his chest to imagine Khadgar in Karazhan alone, his only job was to ensure he survived up until the point he was supposed to somehow fix this whole mess, and he had failed. What if the demon had wanted this? What if, at this very moment, their mage was in trouble. From the grimace Llane shared with him, he was thinking the same thing. He may not like this plan, he may not like the mage involved in this plan, but it was the plan nevertheless. </p><p>“I will have to go back for him after our discussion,” Medivh noted. “There are many things in the tower that are trapped or warded, it would not do well for my novitiate to get himself killed so soon.”</p><p>That, Lothar definitely didn’t like. </p><p>“But anyway,” Medivh said. “To more pressing matters.”</p><p>Llane nodded and with a wave of his hand, the soldiers around Lothar and Medivh stepped back, lifting their spears as they did so. “Yes. I am afraid it is a most terrible affair. We would not have disturbed you otherwise.” </p><p>“It is good to be home.” Medivh said, a slight smile gracing his features as Llane approached. After a moments pause, the two men embraced as long-suffering friends might do. Llane clasped his arms around the guardian, patting his back firmly. The solemn, disgusted expression on the kings’ face only for Lothar to see.</p><p>“Come,” Llane said, stepping back from Medivh. “We have much to discuss, and much you must guide us on.”</p><p> </p><p>The three men, Taria, and a small collection of guards marched through the castle corridors. Lothars’ long strides kept up the kings’ hurried pace whilst Taria distracted Medivh with questions of home and tales of the things he had missed</p><p>“As soon as your gryphon returns, you are to fly to Kharazhan and return the mage to us.” Lane said in hushed tones, braving a glance behind them. “If you leave now, it would raise suspicion.”</p><p>Lothar nodded, taking great care not to falter in his step. It was not his job to fulfil the role of a babysitter, but his king demanded it of him and so, regrettably, he must comply.</p><p>They arrived at the war room in a blur of action, soldiers busied themselves around them as Llane took his place at the head of the table, looking grimly down at the lonely figurines on its surface. Medivh floated inside and soldiers parted to give him room. His fingers ghosted the rim of the table, all at once familiar and so strange. </p><p>Lothar had fallen deep in thought, considering the implications of Khadgar left in Karazhan alone. The insolent mage didn’t know when or how to stop, and there was much in that tower that could cause him, or others harm.</p><p>“Tell me about these beasts,” Medivh said, raking his gaze over the familiar landscape below him. “The ones causing you such trouble.”</p><p>“We don’t know much about them,” Llane admitted. “The reports suggest giants, armed to the teeth and carried on the backs of wolves. As far as we know, unstoppable.”</p><p>“What of the other kingdoms?” Medivh lifted one of the figurines, inspecting it closely. </p><p>“A similar story. They seek our armies and coffers for aid, but do not trust us with their information.” Came Llanes’ reply. He watched Medivh carefully, searching intently for any sign his friend was still there. This war was so much bigger than humans and beasts, this war was fought in their homes, in their minds. Friend against friend and brother against brother. </p><p>Lothar glanced up, suddenly aware of the conversation taking place around him. He cleared his throat, avoiding questioning glances as he leant back against the wall.</p><p>“So you have nothing.”</p><p>“Exactly.” Lothar sighed, pleased the conversation was easy to pick up. “We don’t know anything about them. Which is why-” he said with a pointed look at the king. “-We need prisoners, living or dead.”</p><p>“How suitably morbid.” Medivh muttered.</p><p>“It must be done,” Llane admitted. “And so that is our plan. We shall form a patrol here.” He said, pushing one of the figurines into place. “Our most recent reports suggest activity in this area. We push here, expect an ambush and fight. No matter what, we must bring one of whatever they are, back alive. Perhaps they can be reasoned with.”</p><p>Lothar snorted. “They seem very reasonable people.”</p><p>Llane gripped the table, hanging his head. Before them an impossible task, behind them, a terrible decision. He wouldn’t admit it, but he found it near impossible to look at Medivh since he had appeared in the throne room. Something unpleasant twisted in his gut to see him, so similar and yet so strange. He felt lost for words, grasping for something, anything to say. He knew how it looked, the man who always had something to say silent. Medivh might suspect something, his guards may lose faith, Lothar may regret trusting him. Yet try as he might, no words came to mind. He opened his mouth in a final attempt to find something to say, nothing came out, save for a female voice that was not his own.</p><p>“We don’t know the full danger of what we face Medivh.” Taria said, her presence by his side calming the king immeasurably. Her voice was far steadier than Llane knew his own would be.</p><p>“I serve the highest purpose,” Medivh said. “To protect this realm, it is my purpose and one I serve gladly. I am the Guardian” He glanced from Lothar to Llane. “For now.”</p><p>Lothar snapped up at that. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“The novitiate.” Medivh half-smiled.</p><p>“But he renounced his vows?” Taria asked, concern ringing in her tone. She glanced at Llane before returning her gaze to the thing that wasn’t quite Medivh.</p><p>“He’s here though isn’t he?” Medivh said, a lazy smirk settling on his features. It looked wrong somehow. “It is destiny is it not?”</p><p>Lothar couldn’t help the scowl that rose. Destiny was a cruel mockery. An excuse. To accept in the presence of destiny was to accept that every awful thing happened for a reason. It was to accept that there was some godly reason he met and fell in love with the woman of his dreams. To grow and have a child with her, only for destiny to rip her away. Destiny was to accept the pang of guilt that shot through him every time he looked at Callan. To accept that the neglect he put Callan through when he was too wrapped up in pain was just destined to happen, and not a mistake on his part. Destiny was an excuse, and a poor one too. </p><p>“Speaking of our mage,” Medivh muttered. “I had better go back and get him.”</p><p>“No!” Llane shouted before he could stop himself. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of normality. “I mean, not now. Medivh I seek your guidance in other issues first. Taria, Lothar, you may leave us.”</p><p>Medivh raised his eyebrow, but voiced no objection, watching with interest as the two said their goodbyes. </p><p>“Wait,” he said. Lothar paused on a step, cursing under his breath. “Surely the champion should be present for matters of security? And her grace is wise beyond her years, her council is invaluable. I suggest, my king, we all stay for this matter of yours.”</p><p>Llane looked at Medivh, noting the slight challenge that shone in his eyes. “Yes,” he said after a long silence. “Yes. You’re right. Of course.” He turned to Lothar and Taria and spoke through gritted teeth. “Please, stay.”</p><p>The three shared a solemn look. Whatever happened next, it was all down to Khadgar. </p><p>
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  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Several very important and probably expensive items crashed to the ground and scattered across the floor.  Khadgar froze, wild eyes searching the expansive room. He waited but nobody came streaming in to tell him off and cart him away. He remained alone, save for the Gollum that sat unfinished in the corner. Khadgar released a shaky breath, kneeling to scoop the items back onto the desk he had bumped into. </p><p>At the time, this had seemed like an excellent idea. Now, however, it seemed like a severe lapse in judgement. He shook himself. Now that he was here, he had no choice but to follow through on his plan. Glancing around he took in his bearings, gazing at the high vaulted ceiling and the long white columns. His attention was drawn to the pool in the centre of the room, the tranquil blue of the arcane that pulled at every corner of his subconscious. He felt himself take uncertain steps towards it, kneeling at the base and peering in.  Strands of energy circled him, gently drawn to the ceiling and walls on its cosmic journey. Khadgar took a deep breath, savouring the feeling of stability and strength the pool gave him. He could just reach out to touch it, sink his skin into its depths and he had to hold himself back. It was easy, too easy to become addicted to this feeling. Out the corner of his eye, Khadgar was sure he saw something move but when he turned, there was nothing, and nobody, there. Suddenly overcome with uncomfortable anxiety, Khadgar stood. He cleared his throat, eyes scanning the room once more. He knew of the shades and shadows that called Karazhan home and he wasn’t particularly keen to meet one now. </p><p>His proximity to the pool had rejuvenated him and he crossed the room towards the golem Khadgar imagined this hulking beast helping out with the housework and stifled a laugh, this kind of thing should be armed for war, not armed with a duster. Currently, the sculpture had no head but he could already feel the powerful magic woven into it. He had seen things like this during his time with the Kirin Tor but on a much smaller scale. This, was impressive. He didn’t want to break anything and so, gathering himself, he set for the staircase and began the long journey back down to the library, taking care to avoid ruining the polish on his way. Descending seemed quicker than their earlier ascent and soon enough he found himself amongst the tall bookcases that furnished the library. Despite the magnitude of his task, he allowed himself a moment to bask in awe at the sheer volume of books and texts. He didn’t even know this many books existed, and here they all were in one place. Fighting the urge to take every single book he could possibly carry, Khadgar returned to the spot he had stood in before, glancing around to ensure he was alone.</p><p>A familiar burning sensation returned to his wrist and he winced, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the mark of the Kirin Tor. He frowned at the faint purple glow, not knowing what to make of it. The pain was dull but uncomfortable, itching underneath his skin. Khadagars’ eyes followed the indistinct trail of what could have been a shade, his body turning with it and he noticed his mark brighten with the movement. He followed the steadily growing glow, noting where it heightened and where it fell. Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shuddered through his arm and he glanced up at the book in front of him. Silently, he plucked it from the shelf, running his fingers down the frayed spine. The other books on the shelf were coated in a thin layer of dust that settled in his throat but the dust around this text seemed recently disturbed. His hand hovered over the cover and he flipped it open, frowning at the unfamiliar squiggles and diagrams. </p><p>Footsteps echoed somewhere in the tower and Khadgar quickly snapped the book closed and stuffed the book in his robe, spinning around and trying to find his way back to the centre. The tower was disorientating and it was impossible to tell where the footsteps were coming from, or if they were even real. </p><p> </p><p>“Lost?” </p><p>Khadgar spun on his heel, almost toppling into a bookcase for his efforts. He was met with Moroes glaring at him. </p><p>“Lost?” He asked again.</p><p>“Uhm, I fell,” Khadgar said. “From the portal. I was just trying to find the gryphon.”</p><p>“Did you find her in the library?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>Khadgar opened his mouth intending to explain himself, but nothing came out. He gaped uselessly at the steward, the stolen book heavy in his robes. </p><p>“The Kirin Tor sent you didn’t they?” Moroes asked, a hint of spite in his eyes that was matched in his tone. “You wouldn’t be the first, nor I suspect, the last.”</p><p>“No no no no no!” Khadgar stumbled. “I left the Kirin Tor. I renounced them, I renounced everything. I didn’t want to come here, I told them they needed the guardian, they made me come with them. I-” he rambled desperately, fully aware of the accusations pressed against him. He knew what the previous trainees were sent here to do, he knew it was to become his sad fate if he stayed. Khadgar had done everything he could to avoid that sentence, he wasn’t about to be accused of it now. </p><p>Moroes held up his hand to silence him and Khadgar faltered. The older man regarded him with a calculating gaze and Khadgar met him with an uncomfortable silence. </p><p>“Very well,” Moroes said finally and Khadgar released a heavy breath. “Your gryphon is this way.” </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar jogged to catch up with him, glancing at the peculiar blinkers that shielded his eyes and he wondered how he was able to get any work done. The question he didn’t want to ask hung in the air, Moroes seemed to sense this.</p><p>“There are things in this tower it does not do well to dwell on,” he said. “Shades, visions, it’s enough to turn a sane man mad.”</p><p>“The blinkers protect you from that?” Khadgar asked, unsure. </p><p>“What I cannot see cannot hurt me.” Moroes almost chuckled. “The shades of things that have passed, visions of things yet to come…” He trailed off. </p><p>Khadgar didn’t want to press the issue, and when Moroes seemed to gather himself, he continued. </p><p>“What a curse it is.” He muttered. “To know the future, and be powerless to change it.” </p><p>Khadgar glanced around at his surroundings, fearful that some premonition may jump out at him at any moment. Without realising it, they had arrived at the landing where Lothars’ gryphon had been growing increasingly impatient. </p><p>“What is it like working for the guardian?” he asked as they stepped outside.</p><p>“It changes,” Moroes said. “These halls used to be so filled with life, banquets every other day, friends streaming in and out to visit. For some years now, all has been quiet.”</p><p>“What changed?”</p><p>Moroes shook his head. “I am not sure. The world has known peace for so long, there is little to be in need of a guardian for. As for the banquets..” he trailed off again and Khadgar paused, turning to face him. </p><p>“What of them?” he asked.</p><p>Moroes’s glare snapped to him. “You ask many questions mage.” </p><p>“Sorry!” Khadgar hastened to say. “I meant no offence.”</p><p>Moroes only nodded at him through slightly narrowed eyes, turning to gaze out at the landscape. “The hour is late.” He said, calm washing over him once more. “Your friends will be wondering where you are.”</p><p>Khadgar swallowed and nodded. Friends was probably too strong a word, but they likely were at least wondering where he was. He hoped that to be true at least, it would be rather depressing if his companions had already forgotten him by the time he returned. </p><p>He took tentative steps towards the gryphon that reared up at his presence, wild eyes searching for Lothar and when they came up empty, she shot Khadgar a suspicious glare. A loud screech rumbling in her throat. Khadgar held his palms out in front of him as he stepped closer. “Lothar teleported home.” He said softly, hoping she could somehow understand him. “We need to fly back to Stormwind to meet him.”</p><p>The gryphon regarded him oddly for a few moments more. With a shake of her head as she settled, she deemed Khadgar trustworthy. Gently, Khadgar pulled himself onto her back, realising in the back of his mind he had never flown a gryphon before and he hadn’t paid any particular attention to how to steer one on their journey either. A solitary thought danced across his head and he turned to Moroes. </p><p>“Do you have any family or loved ones?” He asked. Moroes blinked at him, mouth hanging open in question. “These may prove to be dark times. Talk to them, see them whilst you still can.” </p><p>The words felt strange in his mouth like they weren’t his own and yet he knew they were. Moroes blinked at him again, both men as confused as each other.  Turning back, Khadgar gripped a handful of rein and feathers, praying to the light that he wouldn’t fall off. He wasn’t a religious man, but there would never be a better time to start. The wind rushed like waves crashing against him as they shot out into the darkening sky, Khadgar swallowing the scream that almost bit out in surprise. Soon the winding tower and the form of Moroes blinked into obscurity. Mere tiny specks on a glorious canvas. Next stop, hopefully, Stormwind. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Llane had just about exhausted all points of conversation, rapidly becoming aware he could not keep Medivh here much longer. Taria leant back against the wall, desperately searching for another question to ask or point to make. Lothar, meanwhile, had slammed his face into the table. They listened as Medivh explained for the umpteenth time what their plan would be, and yes he’s sure this is the biggest problem, no the fel doesn’t have a silent p, no not everything that is green is infected and <em>please</em> stop pointing to green things and asking.</p><p>Taria nodded, placing a full stop after the notes she had been pretending to write as Medivh spoke. </p><p>At that moment a sharp knock drew their attention to the door, at Llane’s permission it swung open, revealing a city guard, slightly out of breath. “Your Majesty.” She panted mid-salute. “The mage has returned on the Commanders gryphon, he is making his way here now.”</p><p>Llane and Taria schooled their relieved expressions. The latter risking a glance at Medivh and gleaming nothing. Lothar, however, slammed his hands down on the table, pushed himself up and stalked out of the room. He stomped down the hall and out of sight. </p><p>“Was that some new code I haven’t heard yet?” Medivh joked as he watched Lothar storm off. “He seems ready for war." </p><p>Llane choked on something caught between a laugh and a sob. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar jogged lightly through the castle. During his journey, he had removed his new book from his robes and tucked it into his bag, haven grown tired of it bouncing against his chest. Thank the light the gryphon had been so well trained, he never would have made it otherwise. As soon as he figured out what they ate, he would see to it she enjoyed a great treat as a tribute for his life. </p><p>“Lothar!” He called, waving at the rapidly approaching form of the soldier. He offered him a smile, hoping it might placate the thunderstorm in the older mans’ expression. “Is everything o-”</p><p>Lother grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a quiet hallway. He picked him up by his collar and slammed him into the wall. Brick dust scattered around them and Khadgar struggled, hissing in pain as his head banged against the wall he was now pinned to. </p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>-” Lothar spat. “-do you think you were doing?”</p><p>Khadgar gasped for breath, hands swatting uselessly at Lothars' grip. “I fell!” he said. “I fell out of the portal, I flew straight back!”</p><p>He felt his head slam into the wall again as Lothar shook him. “Bullshit.” Lothar seethed. “I saw you mage, you did it on purpose.”</p><p>Khadgars’ feet scraped against the wall as he fought for balance, swallowing the defensive urge to wield the arcane and gain the upper hand, it would be easy enough with his mouth free. There was something wild in Lothars’ eyes that frightened him beyond words. The lion of Azeroth was thoroughly pissed off, and somehow, he was the cause. </p><p>“You could have gotten yourself <em>killed</em>. ” he growled and oh. Oh. </p><p> </p><p>Worried.</p><p> </p><p>Lothar had been worried.</p><p> </p><p>“Are <em>you</em> trying to get me killed?!” He choked out, gesturing wildly to Lothar’s white knuckles gripping his shirt. The wild look in his eyes faded and he stumbled backwards, dropping Khadgar as if he had been burnt. Khadgar was sure that he hadn’t been, not with all the effort it had taken to not react with any magic despite how the arcane screamed in panic around him. </p><p>Thankfully, Lothars' realization of his overreaction had caused him to forget his questioning; Khadgar wasn’t sure how he would have explained that one away. He didn’t really know himself, all he knew was something was wrong. He noted that Lothar could be involved with it, this wrongness, though he had no clue how deep this thing ran. For now, until he had the opportunity to figure it out, he would have to wait. Wait, and trust nobody. </p><p>He gulped deeply, placing a steadying hand on the wall for support. Lothar was so used to being in command, to knowing the next five steps of his troops in any situation. Khadgar however, was a wild card. He could turn in any direction and it would be a surprise to even himself. That, Khadgar thought, is a definite cause for an army commander to stress. </p><p>“Why didn’t you use your…” Lothar trailed off, throwing his hands around in manic gestures as if magic was a dirty word and the art of mime was underappreciated. </p><p>“Well, it wouldn’t have been a fair fight then.” Khadgar said, grinning cockily as he pushed himself back off the wall.</p><p>Lothar was caught off guard. Anger and pride washing over him before being immediately replaced with rolls of laughter. Khadgar allowed himself a small chuckle at the sheer mania of the situation he was in. He wanted to trust Lothar if only to have a friend in this strange world. He felt he was dancing on a cliff's edge, so close to the truth he was sure was being shielded from him. Khadgar thought back to the king, to his strange oddities and, like a virus, he felt something shiver through him. </p><p> </p><p>There was no way for the king to have prior knowledge of the fel before Khadgars’ arrival. The king smiled at the revelation that Khadgar wasn’t a threat to the guardian title. He had wished him unnecessary luck, a clear jibe and now? Now he sends Lothar after him upon his return. The king of Stormwind had a secret, one that Khadgar desperately didn't want to be true.</p><p>Khadgar could imagine him, sitting atop his throne, wry grin stretching on inhuman features. A thick, heavy fog of green that lingered disease-like in the castle. Armies of emerald-eyed soldiers marching in too perfect unison. Fire and ash, once fertile ground buried under countless nameless bodies. No matter what imaginary Khadgar did, he had helped cause this. The people knew it, they blamed him for it with their last breaths as the life was ripped painfully from them. Somewhere around him, Lothar was still laughing. </p><p>The king must be infected and thus either seeks a cure, or something greater. Greater, and far more deadly. Khadgar winced at the implications of these treasonous thoughts. </p><p>Khadgar could trust nobody. He could tell nobody. His heart in his throat and clenched in a vice. Chest pounded by heavy weights. His breathing thick and fast, stuck in his throat like tar. He racked his body with coughing fits, but nothing could dislodge it. He felt a firm hand clap his back and was almost sick with the contact. He shivered violently, trying to listen for the familiar hum of the arcane but hearing only the blood thumping in his ears. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar had always been alone, but he had never felt this lonely. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A day later than I expected to post this! I've had it sat in my drafts overnight but just wanted to make sure it was properly ready to go before posting.</p><p>Khadgar's found himself in a sticky situation here! With a plan in motion to catch a prisoner and a mage who can trust nobody but himself, what could possibly go wrong?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The First Battle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning! Descriptions of violence, blood and death (not major characters) ahead.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Khadgar hadn’t spoken since, not to anybody. Llane and Taria had greeted him and he bowed quickly, listened to their plan, nodded and left. Medivh mentioned something about the tower and Khadgar paled, staring down at his clean, worn shoes. He raised his head once in response to a question and his tired, frightened eyes met Llanes’. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he quickly glanced away. </p><p>Lothar watched him with a hardened expression, feeling the beginnings of a headache in his skull. Khadgar looked exhausted, his movements stiff and slow. Fields apart from the erratic motions he had been growing used to. He wanted to speak with him about it but before he could even find the words Khadgar had left the room. </p><p>They were due to leave that evening, bound for a destination where these beast reports had been coming in thick and fast. It had been Medivh’s plan to travel through dusk, to lead the attackers to think them unprepared and provoke an ambush. It had been Llane’s idea to send a selection of soldiers with them, Taria’s idea to send Callan, and Lothar’s idea to forget the whole stupid thing because why on earth would they want to give them the upper hand of an ambush?</p><p>The sun had begun it’s dreary descent and the soldiers busied themselves with preparations. Lothar watched them with detached interest, wondering where Khadgar had scurried off to. He hadn’t been hiding in the library which left him with few other options. It would be overstepping to show up at the inn in Goldshire where he was lodging, and equally irresponsible for the mage to go running off outside of the protection of Stormwinds walls anyway. What little patience Lothar had was being sorely tried. </p><p>“Is something the matter?” Medivh appeared at his side and Lothar jumped, so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed his presence.</p><p>The guardians' gaze was calculating, intense and unblinking. Lothar fought to not cower under it but found it too painful to match it. He settled with staring at a spot in the far wall of the armoury.</p><p>“No."</p><p>“Oh really?” Medivh drawled, shifting his weight and swivelling, breaking into Lothar’s eye line and disturbing his staring competition with the stone. “Because it looks like you're brooding to me”</p><p>“I am <em> not </em> brooding,” Lothar sputtered, exhaling impatiently. “I am being interrupted by someone who's supposed to be busy getting ready.”</p><p>Medivh waved his staff at him. “I am ready.”</p><p>Lothar scowled but soon found his expression softening, Medivh looked, well, like Medivh. The strangeness behind his eyes, the oddity in his movements all evaporated and replaced with the person he knew so well. His gaze was so full of light and life it was almost easy to forget what was lurking beneath. He found he didn’t have a response, shocked speechless by that familiar smile. In his silence, he felt Medivh shift, something foreign flickered in his eyes and just like that, he was gone. </p><p>“We should leave soon,” Medivh said, turning on his heel and stalking from the room. </p><p>Lothar sighed deeply, resting his forehead against the cool stone. His eyes burning and beginning to sting. He coughed harshly, pulling himself up and shaking himself off. He hated everything about this. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar eventually returned shortly before they were due to depart. He hunched into his cloak, head down and feet shifting in his place. The soft smile he had offered on his arrival didn’t meet his eyes and Lothar felt like shaking him. If the person destined to save Azeroth was too scared to go on a little mission then Lothar really didn’t fancy their chances. </p><p>Something was different with this though. Lothar had seen fear and apprehension many times in the eyes of fresh soldiers. He knew his young eyes had once widened the same way many years ago. There was a frustration bubbling in the mage, a restless one based on how he bounced from foot to foot. Khadgar shot furtive glances when he thought nobody was looking, some directed towards Medivh, others towards Lothar, but mostly towards the King. </p><p>Lothar rolled his eyes, knocking the mages’ shoulder as he stepped past and led the way towards the stables. He heard Khadgar hiss in surprise and swallowed a chuckle, squaring his shoulders as he set the pace for the rest of the group.</p><p>Khadgar was thankful for his earlier embarrassment in learning to mount a horse, this attempt went far smoother and he didn’t even fall off once. His mare, Shihlo, was quiet and well-tamed and Khadgar liked her immediately, spurring her into motion with a gentle press of his heel. He, Medivh and Lothar took the front whilst a collection of stormwinds finest marched and rode behind them. </p><p>Elwynn Forest was calm and quiet, even the bird song seemed muted and distant. The sparrows had bedded down for the night in the tall oak trees. Somewhere far off a wolf howled, matched by the supporting howls of its pack before fading into nothingness. They travelled in relative silence, stopping only to push the cage that they wheeled out of a ditch it had fallen into. Lothar led the group, listening out for every noise and eyes tracking every movement of the forest around them. The trees had begun to thin, some torn at the trunk in seemingly impossible ways. They hadn’t seen civilization for some miles now, and although the night was drawing in, this was a popular trading route. It was unusual for it to be empty even at the late hour they travelled in. It made Lothar uneasy. </p><p>As they turned a corner Lothar noticed a change in the stillness of the air. A discarded wagon lay upside down, its weight crushing whatever trade was making its way to Goldshire. He put his hand out to still and signal his men as more broken wagons and baskets came into view. Lothar dismounted near an abandoned and splintered wheel and knelt before the surrounding rocks. Thick and clotted blood coated them, seeping down and staining the earth below. The trail of Medivhs’ raven feather cloak drifted past him and he stilled, holding his breath as Khadgar followed suit. He looked up to see the young mage catch the guardians staff, the fear he was trying to mask broken for a precious moment by the awe that lit up his face. The novitiate held the staff destiny had told him he’d one day own. Lothar felt something in his shoulders tighten as he imagined what it may have been like, had Khadgar been their guardian. Would he have accepted this vision? Would he have had one at all? Medivh would still be with them, a valuable ally instead of a dangerous curse. </p><p>Medivh and Khadgar climbed the small hill carefully, both drawn to the ancient gnarled tree with it’s glowing green embers. It seemed to burn through the trunk despite the lack of fire and the heavy chill in the air. Khadgar covered his nose with his sleeve, the smell of sulfur and rot mixing unpleasantly. Medivh had begun saying something and somewhere behind them two soldiers were talking, Khadgar heard none of it however because he had turned to his right. </p><p>He stopped in his tracks, blinking twice to ensure his sight didn’t deceive him. But alas, there it remained. The dried up, shrunken corpse of a woman, pinned underneath her cart and drained of her valuable life. Khadgar knelt by her side, he recognised this woman from the market. He didn’t know her name but had seen her stall laden with homemade goods. Well crafted shirts and robes from soft linens, small trinkets and the occasional sturdy pair of boots. She had seemed a nice woman, always giving discounts to the soldiers that kept the city safe. She seemed practically untouched, her body not mangled from a fight but rather destroyed from within. As she lay there, a small wisp of green expelled from her throat and into the air. Khadgar grimaced, his heart rate quickening as the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. This had been recent.</p><p>“Guardian-” Khadgar began to say, but the warning on his lips came too late.</p><p>A gargantuan hammer smashed through the tree line. It collided with a soldier and he flew backwards, crashing into a tree. Dead.</p><p>“Close in!” A shout came.</p><p>“Formation!” Another. </p><p>Soldiers blurred in action. Closing ranks with practised speed. Spinning to see their assailants. </p><p>It came from the trees. With a guttural roar, the creature flattened a soldier. It contorted itself. Its hammer ripped through the flesh of another soldier who fell lifelessly from his horse. </p><p>Whatever they were, now wasn’t the time to think about it.</p><p>The creature bellowed. From the bushes more came. Taking down men in easy swings of their giant weapons. </p><p>“Watch your flanks!” Lothar yelled. Around him, chaos. Soldiers pinned to trees with spears. Some still fighting. Blow traded with blow. Blood splattered across his leg and he turned to see a monster lift its hammer from where a soldiers head had been. </p><p>One ran towards Khadgar. His axe raised. Khadgar startled, eyes widened and body trembling. He yanked himself up. Instinct shot his hand forwards. The arcane crackled within him like never before. </p><p><em> “Rhui salher!” </em> he yelled. Streaks of blue shot through the air. Exploding on impact.</p><p>Khadgar watched as the creature fell. His feet firmly planted to the floor. He would not run from this. </p><p>
  <em> “Ullaman takan!”  </em>
</p><p>He would not run. He must protect the guardian. He lifted his palm to the sky, dragging the weight of the arcane with him. It splintered through the air, forming a barrier around them. The power blinked from his eyes and he turned to see something standing to his right. </p><p>One of the creatures. Large fist pounding on the shield. Dark eyes lit with confusion. This one looked different, but Khadgar didn’t have time to think about that.</p><p>“Guardian.” He said again. Voice low, tinged with desperation. He had never done this before. This was real. </p><p>With little effort one of the hulking beasts lifted a horse and threw it at some soldiers, crushing them beneath it. The cackle of harsh laughter that followed clashed with the clang of steel. Lothar tasted blood and sweat in the air, ducking under an unprotected swing. He lashed out. Getting in what jabs he could. </p><p>“Don’t try to take them on with brute force!” He shouted, gutting one of them as he slid underneath its hulking weight. </p><p> </p><p>Armoured feet pounded the ground as Callan ran. His target noticed him. </p><p>Medivh turned from the tree to face the battlefield. Jaw tense. Eyes narrowed. </p><p>Khadgar clutched the staff. Arcane whispered to him. </p><p>Lothar ripped his sword from the mangled spine of a beast. He looked up. Callan. </p><p> </p><p>Callan had been thrown to the ground. Pinned. The beasts blade drew back, human blood dripping down his neck. It swung its blade towards Callan. And fell, lifeless, by his side. </p><p>Lothar stood above them, his sword hovering above the still twitching body. The creatures head rolled to the side. Callan blinked his eyes open.</p><p>“What did I just say?” Lothar asked, kicking the body away. “They’re stronger. Be smarter.”</p><p>A huge hand gripped the back of his plate mail and threw him backwards. Lothar landed heavily, grasping for a blade that wasn't there. It had embedded in the ground behind him. He reached out for anything. The creature approached. Lothars fingers caught against the handle of the blunderbuss attached to his side. He gripped it hard, yanking it upwards only for the creature to enclose its hand around it. He pulled the trigger. </p><p>Blood and sinew splattered across his face as the creature reared back in agony. Clutching its deformed and mangled hand. Lothar scrambled to his feet, jumping backwards.</p><p>Beneath the barrier, Medivh was chanting. Khadgar only knew some of the words that fell hard and fast from his lips. Power surged around them, engulfing the guardian in bright light. He slammed his palms to the ground and the energy exploded through the earth. Beams of light shot through splintered ground. They ripped through some of the creatures and their suffering roar shook the trees. A sickly horrid green expelled from their wretched bodies and they began to fall, withered. Dead. </p><p>Khadgar heard the creature near him turn. Saw the shock in his eyes. He muttered something. The first word foreign, a language he didn’t know. The other, far too familiar. Fel. </p><p>Now he had more time to look, he noted how the only creatures to have fallen in Medivh’s attack were those with green skin. The others looked confused and angry, now vastly outnumbered by the small men with their magic spells and explosive sticks. </p><p>The soldiers gave a rallying cry. Demanding pursuit of the largest of their number. The creature growled, turning to run. The others followed suit, grabbing their wolf-like mounts and any horses nearby. One of them, Khadgar saw with a grimace, was his own. </p><p>Hooves and paws thundered past Khadgar. He stood, unsure. Medivh moved next to him and two men locked eyes. One in a knowing fear, the other in a confused panic. Medivh swung his arm through the air and Khadgar’s barrier vanished. He felt the loss of arcane rush through him like a blow to the chest and he stumbled. </p><p>“What did you do?” He asked. The guardians' movements were frantic. The staff ripped from his hands. Medivh didn’t answer. </p><p>“I was right wasn’t I?” He tried again. Looking out at the withered corpses. “It’s here.” When he turned back he noticed the teleportation runes glowing in the earth. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“Get these men safely back to Stormwind,” Medivh demanded. “I have to get back to Karazhan.”</p><p>Khadgar swallowed and nodded. </p><p>“You did well today.”</p><p>Khadgar stilled. Memories of training with the Kirin Tor shuddered through him. Before he could say anything, Medivh had gone. </p><p>“Where’s the guardian?” Lothar asked as he rode past, sweat beading down his forehead. </p><p>“Karazhan,” Khadgar said, gulping oxygen back into his lungs. </p><p>“We need a prisoner,” Lothar said. They couldn’t lose all these men for nothing. “Where’s your horse?”</p><p>Khadgar paled, pointing to the disappearing form of the creatures. “They took my horse,” he admitted. </p><p>“Really?” Lothar sighed, eyes rolling so hard his head tilted with them. “Just stay there.” </p><p> </p><p>He kicked his horse into action, leaning forwards against the wind and leaving Khadgar behind. He and two of his soldiers stormed after the creatures. Unsheathed swords gripped by their sides. </p><p>The creatures were not trained on horseback, neither were horses suited to carry such a weight so quickly. Lothar caught up with them, pupils blown wide and his stare hardened. The creature in front looked over its shoulder and growled at them. It lifted its blade, slinging it backwards. A crash sounded next to Lothar as horse and soldier fell. Red mud splattering against his side and face. His brow tightened, low and menacing. A snarl reached his lips. He pushed his horse faster. </p><p>It disappeared around the corner and they lost sight of the wolf until it came growling through the bushes, pouncing on the other soldier and gripping his head in its massive jaw. The disembodied scream faded as the soldier was pulled off into the undergrowth. </p><p>Lothar’s eye twitched in its socket. His horse reared as he swung violently, jabbing the demounted creature where he could. He spun and dug his heels in, the horse kicking backwards and sending the thing flying. Lothar jumped from the saddle and rushed to the creature before it could stand. He slammed his hilt into its skull. A satisfying crunch. Silence. </p><p>Eyes in the treeline caught his attention. Lothar pressed the hilt of his blade against his prisoners neck and his wolf growled. Unable to come any closer. In frustration it yelped, bounding off in search of safety. </p><p>Lothar allowed himself to breathe. It was over.</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar knelt by one of the green corpses. Inspecting it as closely as he dared. The soldiers were busy either searching for more attackers or preparing to leave, hauling bodies of their friends and companions onto carts. They would likely join the funeral that wluld now have to be rescheduled. Khadgar had wanted to give them some space so he knelt alone, tuning out their conversation. From this close, the sulfuric rotten smell was almost unbearable. The air around him sticky and repulsive. His short rest waiting for Lothar had replenished his energy and the arcane around him suddenly reared, flaring in preparation. Khadgar couldn’t see it, but he knew well enough to know it was rarely wrong. </p><p><em> “Shir'kala-.” </em>He muttered under his breath, not wanting to alert the soldiers in case it was a false alarm. He knew soldiers. He knew men. They distrusted any magic that didn’t come from their guardian. Khadgar could not afford to make enemies here. </p><p>He heard the rustle then. His eyes shot open. A woman rushed through the undergrowth. Similar to the creatures but smaller in stature. She stopped in her tracks. For a brief moment, neither moved.</p><p>She pounced. </p><p><em> “-Khrata,” </em>Khadgar yelled, finishing the incantation. The arcane tethered around him and shot out. It captured her mid pounce, pushing her back and pinning her against the upper branches of a tree. For a second Khadgar thought of Beture back at Dalaran. This, whatever she was, had underestimated him just as his mentor had. </p><p>It wasn’t much. But Khadgar was proud.</p><p>“Over here!” He shouted, gaining the attention of the soldiers. Callan jogged over and glanced up at the tree, impressed. </p><p>The steady trot of hooves pulled their attention and they turned to see Lothar approach, pulling two horses along with him. On one, a soldier with painfully broken bones but thankful to be alive, albeit mostly unconscious and another soldier, sadly very much dead. On the other horse, Shihlo, the unconscious body of one of the creatures. </p><p>“You took it alone?” Lothar asked, voiced tilted in surprise.</p><p>Khadgar tried not to be offended. “Yes.”</p><p>“Looks like the runt of the litter.” He dismissed, moving past to get his prisoner in the cage. </p><p>“Don’t listen to him,” Callan said, patting him on the back. “He’s been brooding.”</p><p>Khadgar chuckled despite himself and gently brought the woman down so the soldiers could take her away.</p><p>He let one of the injured but conscious soldiers ride Shihlo and opted to sit at the front of the cage wagon with the driver. With his back pressed against the wood, Khadgar allowed himself to relax. He watched the lanterns bob in front of them, lighting their route home. There had been no time to think during the fight, but now there was peace Khadgar couldn't stop the barrage of fears and ideas that battled to be noticed.</p><p>That one creature had spoken the name of the fel. That implied these things knew what it was and intended to use it against them. There had been fear and confusion, so they clearly were unaware of its cost. Likely, someone would have to have told them about it but he didn’t know how. He had studied this planet until there was nothing left to read and there was no way. No way for these creatures to exist, no way for them to know of the fel. This could only mean one thing, they were not of this earth. But where then, had they come from? Perhaps they were formed here but only very recently? There were still many questions to be answered. Khadgars’ stomach turned. First the king, now these creatures? Furthermore, now they had the prisoners what else would they need him for? It would be easy, far too easy to leave and never look back. To cosy up and wait for the world to end.</p><p>But he couldn’t. Not without his answers. Not without exhausting every last option of getting good, innocent people out alive. </p><p>Behind him, the prisoners spoke in tongues the men could not understand. Lothar rode by their side, occasionally shooting glances up to where Khadgar sat. He had been somewhat impressed at the empathy shown by the mage in offering his horse out without being asked. The front seats were uncomfortable and bumpy, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had fallen into some kind of quiet and pensive trance and hadn’t spoken to him since the battle. Lothar considered talking to him but soon decided against it. </p><p>He looked back at the caged beasts, nose wrinkled in disgust. <em> “ </em> Monsters<em>,” </em>he muttered under his breath. </p><p>“We are not monsters.”</p><p>Lothar snapped back to look at the woman in the cage</p><p><em> Oh. </em>She could speak. </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry I haven't updated in a while! Been spending too much time playing the game and not enough time writing about it.</p><p>Garona enters the ring!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. All is not lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothar watched the woman through narrowed eyes. “What are you then?” He asked. “If not monsters.”</p><p>Khadgar spun around in his seat, pressing his face into the small grate that separated the cage from him. “You can speak our language?!”</p><p>Lothar noted the larger creature shake in frustration, darkly growling something to the woman. She seemed to consider it for a moment before turning back to Lothar. </p><p>“Orc.” She answered and Lothar tested the word, finding it unfamiliar. The larger one grunted again, iron chains rattling around him. </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Lothar asked. “Why attack our people.”</p><p>“We were sent here. I was brought here. Your people were in our way.”</p><p>The large orc roared something Lothar couldn’t understand. He pulled violently against his chains and the cage shuddered in response. The driver pulled them to a careful stop to avoid being toppled over. Lothar raised his eyebrow at the creature who seemed more muscle than anything else, at his gnarled and jagged tusk-like teeth. The wood around his restraints warped and bent around his struggles. This anger was not meant for him. The creatures’ dark eyes bore into the other orc, snarl dripping from his lips. Lothar drew his blade. </p><p>“Tell him to stop.” He warned, looking at the woman.</p><p>“You tell him.” She snapped back. </p><p>The large orc broke free with a guttural roar, rushing towards her with fierce intent gleaming in his eyes. Before he could grab her he met Lothar's blade, it split through his neck and he fell lifeless, twitching around the steel. </p><p>“You’re welcome.” He said. The woman only sneered at him. </p><p>“What is your name?” Khadgar asked. Lothar had quite forgotten he had been watching.  <br/>“If you have one.” He hastily added. </p><p>“Garona.” She said. “You are clan leader?” She turned to Lothar. </p><p>“Clan what? No. Not me.” </p><p>Garona narrowed her eyes, turning to Khadgar in disbelief. “You?” she asked indecorously. “But you are small?”</p><p>Khadgar spluttered at that, equal parts embarrassed and offended. He heard the bark of Lothar's laughter and felt a hot red creep up his neck and cheeks. He huffed, turning back around to face the front. </p><p>“We are taking you to him,” Lothar said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. Garona nodded wearily. </p><p>Her gaze never left him. Her head tilted in curiosity and annoyance. Lothar held his head high and his gaze forwards. These strange creatures undoubtedly have strange customs, Lothar was not keen on finding them out. He nudged his horse forwards, trotting to where Khadgar sat sulking. </p><p>As soon as he pulled even Khadgar fumbled with something in his bag, pulling out a large book and quickly ripping it open. He pulled it up to hide his face and began intensely studying it. </p><p>“Mage?” He asked to no response. The driver looked up to catch his eye and shrugged. Lothar sighed, shaking his head and turning his steed back to check up on his men. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Khadgars’ shoulders sag in a heavy sigh. He turned the book the other way around and he blinked, he hadn’t even noticed it had been upside down. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They rode quickly back to Stormwind, eager to get their prisoner to more permanent captivity and provide their injured with healing. The party split seamlessly into groups at their arrival. Some took the dead off in one direction, others aided the injured towards the cathedral. One group headed back to the barracks, another to prepare a more resilient cell for Garona. The final group accompanied them to the castle. Civilians parted in the streets for their passage, staring at the orc in confusion and disgust. They did not yet know her people were responsible for the attacks, but many were set in their ways. This newcomer was different. They distrusted different. </p><p>Khadgar felt conflicted. On the one hand, Garonas’ people were the ones responsible for the recent carnage, on the other, none of them knew that. People do not like what they do not understand. He knew it was unfair and despite the green chin that held high and firm, Khadgar could tell she sensed their disapproval too. </p><p>He had found himself picking up a conversation with Callan just as an excuse to not have to deal with Lothar. Khadgar wasn’t particularly good at the conversation thing, but he feigned interest easily enough. Callan was happy to tell him all about the routine of a soldier and Khadgar was happy to pretend it was information he needed for his research. He had been introduced to other soldiers, friends of Callans whose names he couldn’t quite remember. They were wary of him at first and cast worried glances at his hands until it became clear he wasn’t going to snap his fingers and eviscerate them where they stood. He knew he would have to figure out their names sooner or later, but his mind was currently too busy stumbling over itself with endless questions to take in anything else. </p><p>When they arrived at the throne room Llane, Taria and Medivh were already waiting for them. Medivh had settled into a corner, watching them quietly. Guards had been placed at the exits, leaving only a few surrounding Llane. Lothar knew this layout well, they used it when they wanted to show their visitor that they were being trusted enough not to hurt the King, but also that there was no escape in any direction. It was a risky thing to use, especially when they knew nothing about this orc or her kind. </p><p>Outside the bell tolled the late hour, most citizens would be in their beds at this time. Lothar rolled the tired ache from his shoulders as he climbed the steps ahead of Garona. The king may trust her enough not to harm him, but he did not share those views. Llane looked as if he were about to argue but the half angered, half pleading look that Lothar shot him quietened him. He nodded, allowing Lothar to take a seat nearby. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you a name?” He asked, turning his attention back to the newcomer. </p><p>She didn’t answer. Her green and curious eyes travelled the room. </p><p>“You speak our language.” Llane said, taking a controlled amount of steps down from his throne. Lothar had mentioned that on arrival. “Again.” He said, calm and serious. “Have you a name.” </p><p>Garonas’ gaze landed on him and she stepped upwards. The sound of steel scraped behind her but was stilled by a cautioned wave of Llane’s hand. She inspected him closely, running the lush fabric of his robe through her fingers and pressing her palm against the lion pin on his chest. She breathed in the scent of leather and soap which tickled her nose. She crinkled it, rubbing it with the back of her hand.</p><p>“Garona,” Lothar answered for her. “She calls herself Garona when she feels like talking.”</p><p>She side-eyed him as she passed, crouching down beside the large golden sculpture of a lion at the side of the throne. Her fingers traced its jaw and the curves of its fangs, rolling her lips back against her own in comparison. </p><p>“What kind of being are you?” Llane asked, watching her. He made no sudden movements, barely any motion at all. He simply waited for her.</p><p>“She seems more like us than those beasts we fought,” Karos said, mouth twisting painfully around the words. He glared at her accusingly. </p><p>“Orc,” Garona said, straightening up. “Not beast.” </p><p>Karos shifted, his hand twitching by his blade. </p><p>“Orc?” Llane asked quickly, shooting a warning glance to Karos. He turned back to her, words slow and controlled. “That’s what you are or the bea-... thing in the cage is?”</p><p>Garona turned to look at him, lips uncurling.</p><p>“I know every race in the seven kingdoms,” Llane commented. “I have never heard of orc.” An idea struck him. “Show me where you come from.” He asked, pointing up at the grand map displayed on the ceiling. He had it commissioned by some of the city's finest artists and was very proud of it.</p><p>Lothar watched the two with interest. The way they pulled close and separated. How their words, unassuming and plain battled in the still air. Llane relented and dimmed his power to feed Garonas’ interest before skillfully spinning it into a demand disguised as a curiosity. He was an excellent negotiator, a rose protected by thorns. </p><p>Garona glanced upwards. She did not seem impressed. </p><p>“This is not orc world,” she said. “Orc world is dead. Orcs take this world now.”</p><p>The room fell silent for a moment, considering her words. Khadgar found himself nodding along with her as his suspicions proved correct. In his peripheral he noticed Lothar watching him and he quickly held his head still. </p><p>“Not from this world?” Llane asked finally, pulling Lothar's attention back to him. He tilted his head at the orc before him, brow furrowed. </p><p>“How did you get here?” </p><p>Llane, Lothar and Khadgar jumped, each having forgotten Medivh’s presence in his silence. Taria watched silently, gaze following Garona’s towards the guardian. Something in her chest twisted and she felt her eyes too heavy to move them from him. She swallowed, raising her eyebrow to appear interested before harshly tearing her gaze away. </p><p>“The Great Gate,” Garona replied. </p><p>Before her gaze had settled back to the orc Taria noticed Medivh shift uncomfortably. </p><p>“Deep in-ground,” she continued. “Magic brought us here.”</p><p>“But how did you learn our language?” Khadgar asked. It was one of the few things he didn’t have a theory for yet. </p><p>Garona glanced at him as if he were stupid and Khadgar wanted to shrink back. He fought to stay standing, imploring for her to answer.</p><p>“Orc take prisoner for the gate.” She said and Khadgar realised that her gaze may have been one of regret, of reluctance. “I learn from them.”</p><p>“Prisoners?” Llane started, panic rising in his throat. “Our people? Are they alive?” His chest tightened. This plan, this mockery. The vision had never shown them this. </p><p>“Yes,” she said and Llane released a shaky breath, finding it difficult to regain a stoic composure. “Many,” she added, watching him. </p><p>“Why?” Khadgar probed. Something unpleasant twisted in his stomach. He didn’t mean to sound as angry as he did.</p><p>“To feed the gate. To bring in the horde,” she paused to look at each of them in turn. “To take your world.”</p><p> “You’ll take us to them,” Lothar said, not missing a beat. He watched as Garona rolled her head to look at him.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You’ll take us to them,” he said again, slower. “Or you’ll end up like your friend in the cage.”</p><p>Garona smiled at him, all teeth. She crossed the empty space between them, crouching by his side. From this close Lothar could see the dried blood in her hair, could smell the damp earth that still clung to her. </p><p>“You think you are fearsome?” she whispered, taunting him. “Orc children have pets more fearsome than you.”</p><p>Lothar felt his pride swell within him, he would have struggled to contain it had Llane not appeared at Garona’s shoulder. </p><p>“We are not trying to be fearsome Garona.” He said. “We are trying to protect our people, our families.”</p><p>Garona did not look at him, too drawn into a staring competition with the human in front of her so intense it seemed the fate of the world rested on its outcome. Two proud forces, too strong to give in, too stubborn to give up.</p><p>“If you help us,” Llane continued. “I give you my oath. You will have your freedom.”</p><p>The collar around Garona’s neck rattled as she turned, she looked at the king with an expression the men had not seen before. Finally, she stood. </p><p>“Okay.” She said. And that was it. Llane released a breath, Taria muttered a silent prayer, Lothar slowly stood and Khadgar turned to Medivh, who was no longer there. </p><p>He blinked, looking around him but could see no sign of the guardian. He must have slipped out when they weren’t looking. Khadgar looked at the scene playing out before him before turning on his heel and walking from the room. He noted absently that he should have probably asked permission from the king before leaving, but just being in the same room as those traitors to the light made Khadgar tremble, sick to his stomach. </p><p> </p><p>“Khadgar.” A voice stopped him in his tracks. He had already made it to the hallway and he turned with a sigh, summoning a smile to his lips. </p><p>Taria stood there, arms folded across her chest. The look she gave him was calculating, but her smile was genuine. “Will you be returning to your room in Goldshire?” she asked.</p><p>Khadgar nodded. “Yes, I haven’t anywhere else to stay.”</p><p>“Well, I am afraid you cannot stay there either.” She said, throwing her hands up as if there was nothing she could do about the matter and gently pushing past him. Khadgar got the feeling he was supposed to follow.</p><p>“But, what? All my stuff is there! I-”</p><p>“Not anymore.” Taria interrupted, turning down a hallway. </p><p>He stopped for a moment, staring after her indecorously before jogging to catch up. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well it simply cannot do for our resident mage-”</p><p>“Medivh is your resident mage.”</p><p>“For our resident mage,” Taria continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “To not be resident. So I have taken it upon myself to prepare you a room in the castle.”</p><p>Khadgar almost tripped over his own feet. </p><p>“Well that's uh, that's very generous of you but-”</p><p>“Good. I’m glad you think so,” She said, turning another corner. “I have had your belongings sent for, they await you in your quarters. We would love for you to join us at our meals, though we understand if you prefer your privacy. There are guards situated at either end of the hallway, they will be happy to help you with your needs and questions.”</p><p>She came to a stop in front of an unassuming wooden door, looking closer Khadgar noted a faint glow around its hinges.</p><p>“It’s been enchanted,” She said with a smile. “If you would like to practice your magic, this door should keep any resulting blasts enclosed so as not to damage, or blow up, the rest of the castle.” </p><p>Khadgar spun to face her at the accusation he would kill them all but faltered at the look of gentle teasing mirth that was returned to him. </p><p>“I will leave you to it.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing around yet another corner. </p><p>He ran his hand through his hair, fingers catching in the knots he hadn’t had time to remove in all of the chaos. His head pounded and his arms ached, sick panic rose in him as his palms fumbled to find the door handle. He didn’t want to be here. He needed to be far away from here. What if they knew that he knew? What if they wanted him close so he couldn’t tell their fel ridden secret? His headache plagued him, turning every thought into a time bomb. He gripped the cold handle and pushed the door open to find Medivh sat at a desk near the window. His headache only grew.</p><p>“Guardian!” He said quickly. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>Medivh stood and turned to him, resting his hand on the back of the chair. “Welcome to your new room,” he said. “This used to be mine, a long time ago.” </p><p>Khadgars’ eyes travelled the expanse of the room, it looked far more homely than his residence at the Kirin Tor yet still so empty of personality. A large, comfortable-looking bed took up most of the right side of the room, a grand wooden wardrobe faced it. Khadgar barely had enough clothes to fill up a quarter of it. In the corner by the window sat a wide desk next to a towering bookcase, mostly empty. It was a nice room and he was grateful for the thought, but something heavy still stuck in his throat. </p><p>“What was it like?” He asked, considering now as good a time as any to start gathering intel on his supposed allies. His headache still throbbed as he leant back against the wall, keeping as much distance as possible between him and the guardian.</p><p>A pained expression rained across Medivhs’ face before filtering to neutral. “It was different.” He said.</p><p>Khadgar nodded because he didn’t know what else to do. “Llane and Lothar,” he tested, watching Medivh for a reaction. “They seem, uh, nice. Is there anything I should know about them?”</p><p>Medivh raised his eyebrow at him. “Like what?” He asked</p><p>Khadgar shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, anything important?”</p><p>“Are you implying something young mage?” Medivh asked, something unrecognisable ringing in his tone. Khadgar shuddered. </p><p>“No no, I just, I was just wondering.”</p><p>“Good,” Medivh drawled, taking slow steps towards him. Khadgars’ headache worsened, the Medivh that had been here just moments ago had seemed so pensive, so docile, what changed? “We wouldn’t want you getting...confused.” </p><p>“No, no uh, not confused. That’s not a good thing to uh, be.” Khadgar stuttered, taking a step back and hitting his head against the wall. </p><p>“These are dangerous times,” Medivh said. Khadgar wrinkled his nose, Medivh smelled like he hadn’t washed in weeks. “You’ve got to be careful.”</p><p>Khadgar nodded quickly, pressing back against the wall and realising with a wince that there wasn’t a single spell he knew that the guardian couldn’t easily deflect. </p><p>They were close now, too close. Khadgar felt Medivhs’ breath and he grimaced, head throbbing wildly trying to keep up with everything that was going on. There was a challenge in Medivhs’ eyes that Khadgar didn’t like. Something akin to hatred and curiosity, like he could snap his fingers and Khadgar would be dust. Perhaps the guardian thought that Khadgar was here to take his title, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He didn’t know how to reassure the older man that he was no threat and his eyes scanned the room violently. </p><p>“Medivh,” A rough voice spoke from behind them. The two men turned to see Lothar blocking the light in the doorway. Khadgars’ wild eyes found Lothars’. He noted the dangerous gleam in them and he swallowed. “The king has requested your presence.”</p><p>The two men stared at each other for a moment. Khadgar looked between them, thankful he wasn’t privy to whatever silent conversation was taking place. </p><p>“Of course,” Medivh said. He crossed the room towards the door, turning back to Khadgar. “You would do well to listen to me.” He said, and with that, he left. </p><p>Khadgar released a heavy breath, smoothing his hands down his robes. When he looked up Lothar was still there, gaze questioning. Khadgar didn’t even have any answers for what just happened himself and streaks of pain echoed in his brain. Gathering himself he shouldered past Lothar and beelined down the hallway. He stopped briefly to ask a guard where the library was and slammed the door behind him as soon as he found it. </p><p>He sank into one of the chairs furthest away from the door and held his head in his hands, massaging it gently. This was a mess. This was the biggest mess and he was right in the middle of it. He didn’t know what anything meant, he didn’t know who anyone really was. He was so bone-crushingly alone. Every time he thought he understood something, thought he had an answer, a new wild occurrence would barrel into his life and throw everything into question again. </p><p>Khadgar wrapped his arms around himself, burying his face into the crook of his elbow. His bones ached dully, eyelids drooping. His body shivered. </p><p>How long he sat there, Khadgar wasn’t sure. The library door creaked open and Khadgars’ head lifted from his now wet sleeve. He rubbed his eyes quickly, grabbing a nearby text and throwing it open. A few seconds later he heard a chair next to him scrape against the floor and his red eyes glanced upwards.</p><p><br/>“Are you going to tell me?” Lothar asked. He pulled a chair out and sat down, resting his elbows on the table, toying with an apple in his hands.</p><p>“Tell you what?” Khadgars’ nose crinkled. </p><p>“The reason why you’re acting like I’ve killed your dog.” He took a bite.</p><p>“I don’t have a dog? What?”</p><p>“You’re acting like a little bitch.”</p><p>Khadgar spluttered, face reddening at an alarming rate. “I am not being a- If you killed someone's dog it’s perfectly reasonable for them to act out. I wouldn’t say they were being a little bitch for being angry that their dog had just been killed. But more to the point. I am not being one.”</p><p>Lothar tossed the apple aside. “So you’re angry.”</p><p>“I-What?”</p><p>“You just admitted it. You’re angry. Why?”</p><p>Khadgars’ mouth opened and closed uselessly. He stared at Lothar in astonishment. Lothar met his gaze and offered him a raised eyebrow, waiting patiently for his response. </p><p>“I am not angry.” He said carefully.</p><p>“You just said that you wouldn’t call someone that for just being angry. So you’re angry. You haven’t spoken to me since we returned from the forest. You won’t look at me. You don’t listen to the guardian. You show our king and queen no respect. Now I may not like it, but for better or worse we are supposed to be working together. If you are planning on stabbing me in my sleep, I would like to have some warning.”</p><p>Khadgar stared at him for a moment, mouth agape. Remembering himself he snapped it closed and hastily stood. “Am I to be chastised for not wanting to keep your company?”</p><p>“I just-” Lothar began but was cut off by an impatient wave of Khadgars’ hand.</p><p>“You think so highly of yourself champion.” He spat, gathering his things. “But a title does not substitute for a personality.”</p><p>It was Lothars’ turn to sit in shock, gawping at the younger man. His shoulders drooped as he tried to figure out exactly where he had lost control of the conversation. </p><p>Without another word, Khadgar pulled his cloak around himself and stalked in hasty strides across the room and out of the door. A burst of cold air whistled into the library and prickled Lothars’ skin. The door slammed shut and he was left alone with shock as his only companion. </p><p> </p><p>Khadgar leant back against the stone, body trembling. He rested his head on the wall and tried to take deep breaths. He had never acted out like that before, if he had done so with the Kirin Tor he would have been punished severely. He may have talked back to or occasionally corrected a mentor, but he would never have dared insult one and storm from the room. He became aware of guards at the end of the hall eyeing him with curiosity and he shook himself. Tearing away from the wall he let his legs take him in any direction they chose and soon found himself taking steps down a spiral staircase. The whitewashed stone melded to being worn and dark and an unsteady chill wrapped around him, the hairs on his neck standing to attention. </p><p>“Come one step closer and I’ll gut you.”</p><p>He snapped up, eyes wide. Garona leant lazily against the cage, arms dangling out and toying with the dark iron. Khadgar blinked and noticed the guards shifting in confusion at his arrival. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up here, he wasn’t even sure where here was. </p><p>“I uh,” he began, turning to the closest guard. “I have come to talk with her.” </p><p>His own heart beat furiously against his ribcage and he prayed the tremble wouldn’t be noticeable in his voice. The guard nodded and stepped back, allowing for Khadgar to take an uncertain step into the room. Garona’s warning rang in his ears, but she was in a cage and he, well, he wasn’t. For now, at least, he was safe. </p><p>“Garona,” he said, racking his brain for a topic of conversation that might excuse his coming down here. “I am here to talk to you about, uh,” his brow knitted together, “The fel.”</p><p>She blinked at him, yawning. </p><p>“Yes. The fel. That is what I am here to talk to you about.” </p><p>“You talk too much for someone with a little mouth.”</p><p>Khadgar gaped at her for a moment before shaking it off. “You talking honestly with me could be your ticket out of this cage.” He knew he didn’t have any power to do that, but it sounded like a good enough incentive. Garona thought so too, based on the way she nodded at him. </p><p>“Your people have been using the fel right? Since when?”</p><p>“Gul’dan. He is not of our clan, nor of any clan I know. But he is powerful, he promised us that same power.”</p><p>“He was infected with the fel?”</p><p>“You say infected as if it is a disease. Gul’dan considers it a blessing. Many orcs saw his way, they followed him.”</p><p>“What about you?” Khadgar asked. </p><p>“What about me?”</p><p>“Do you consider it a blessing?”</p><p>Garona thought for a moment. “No,” she said. “If your power is not your own. You are not honourable.”</p><p>Khadgar nodded, shifting uncomfortably. The arcane quiet around him but still present. He wondered what Garona would think of him. </p><p>“Not everyone could take it.” She said, quiet enough that Khadgar almost missed it. </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Of those he gave it to. Many were too young. Too weak. It killed them.”</p><p>Khadgar swallowed heavily. The air around him seemed to thin and he snapped up, wide eyes meaning Garona’s own panicked ones. It felt as though all the oxygen in the room was being pulled to one source and his eyes widened in understanding. He scampered into a corner, motioning for Garona to stay silent about his whereabouts before ducking behind some boxes. </p><p>With a rustle, the airflow in the room was sucked in and suddenly expelled back to normal. Garona choked on a gasp. When she turned around, Medivh circled her. He seemed pensive, lost in some train of thought.</p><p>“This gate,” He started. Garona blinked, trying to catch up with the sudden change in conversation partner. Her eyes shifted to the boxes before resting back on the new arrival. “Who showed it to Gul’dan? Who led him through Azeroth?” His questions were punctuated with heavy steps against the coarse stone floor. </p><p>“Gul’dan called him a demon.” She said, tracking his movements.</p><p>“Did you see it?” He came to a slow stop facing her. </p><p>“Not the face,” she admitted. “But the voice.” Garona shivered involuntarily before quickly squaring her shoulders. “Like fire and ash.”</p><p>Medivh's eyes widened, his face unreadable. Garona felt a probing question form on her lips before the heavy sound of gates opening dragged her attention to the far away guards. When she looked back, Medivh had gone. Eyes narrowed, she spun in her cell, finding neither Medivh nor Khadgar, her gaze instead landing on the approaching form of Taria, the woman from the throne room. Above her cell, a raven cawed and took flight into the night sky. </p><p>She watched as the man who had killed her orc attacker whispered something to the woman. He held back as she and another, less stately seeming woman stepped closer. A guard pulled the heavy door of her cell open and the woman stepped inside, head held high. Garona respected that. </p><p>“Your mate,” she said, gaze lifting to her shoulder and the distant form of the man. “I could kill you before he even reaches me.”<br/>Taria followed her gaze, looking back over her shoulder. When she turned back to Garona, she was laughing. </p><p>“Lothar?” She chuckled. “He is my brother. The king is my mate.”</p><p>Taria's smile was open and warm, Garona watched it for any sign of trickery. </p><p>“You’re the chieftains wife, then.” She said, glancing her up and down. </p><p>“I suppose so.”</p><p>Garona took an intimidating step closer to her, lips curling back across her teeth. “Then killing you would bring me even greater honour.”</p><p>“Not among my kind,” Taria's reply came quick. If she felt any fear, she showed none. Her gaze steady and calm, never once leaving the orc. “It is a cold night,” she continued, ending the conversation. “I thought you might use these.”</p><p>Taria nodded to the woman behind her who entered, laying a collection of warm cloth and blankets on the hard bed. Taria herself knelt, placing the tray she had been carrying on the ground. When she resurfaced, her hands were clasped around a steaming mug. </p><p>“It will warm you.” She said, handing it to Garona. </p><p>In most circumstances, Garona would have refused the offering. It was too easy for weak, underhand creatures with no honour to wound you with a poisoned drink. Something about this woman, however, implored her to reach out and take the mug. She sniffed it carefully and was met with the pleasant aroma of cinnamon and apple. Garona took a hesitant sip and the warm liquid woke tastebuds she didn’t even know she had. She gulped the rest down eagerly.</p><p>“More of our villages burn tonight,” Taria’s tone soft and morose, “One of them is the village of my birth.”</p><p>Garonas’ face was unreadable. She wiped away the drops of drink from her mouth, moving to inspect the fabrics without once moving her gaze from Taria. </p><p>“I cannot imagine what horrors you have been through Garona,” She continued, noting the way something flickered in the orcs stoic expression. “But this doesn’t need to happen. We have had peace in these lands for many years now. Peace between races from all over the world.”</p><p>Garona didn’t respond, her fingers curled into the lush fabrics. Taria took a step forward, leaning to see the heavy collar around the captive's neck. Without thinking she reached out for it and quickly recoiled her hand at the threatening growl and quick advancement from its wearer. Neither noticed the creak of iron at the gates, nor the shuffle of wood from the boxes that occurred after the sudden movement.</p><p>Taria rested her hand above her heart. “I can have it removed,” she said, and she watched as Garona looked down at her bindings. “There is a life for you here Garona, with us. A life of freedom - If you want it.” </p><p>Lothars finger twitched against the trigger of the blunderbuss. He couldn’t hear much of their conversation, but it wasn’t long before Taria returned to him, grinning ear to ear. </p><p>“All is not lost.” She said for his ears only. Lothar looked up at Garona who watched them with interest before turning to follow his sister. Before the guard could close the jail doors, Khadgar slipped out behind them, waiting for them to get some distance away before scampering up the stairs and retreating to his room. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This and the next chapter were supposed to be the same chapter but it got away from me and I ended up writing way too much, so I've split it into two! Two chapters fro the price of one. If you're reading this, that chapters already been uploaded so read on my friends!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Campfire Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door clicked closed behind him and Khadgar collapsed to the floor, leant back against the foot of his bed. One thing he missed about the condensed rooms of the inn was the distant chatter. It both pained him and brought him peace, here, it was too silent. </p><p>He had flung the windows open, too late for bird song. The stillness brought him back to his deserted room in Dalaran and something heavy pressed down against his chest. He coughed against it, pulling his borrowed book he had been studying back into his lap. Around him, a minefield of papers, tracings and empty ink pots. The book was written in a text he did not fully understand but translating it was not too much of a problem. Rewritten chapters stacked by his side.</p><p>Khadgar blinked furiously at his current page, he had been trying to understand it for hours before everything that just happened had happened. He was grateful his research had made it here in one piece without being too muddled. But now even as he tried to clear his mind for the translation he couldn’t help it from wandering back down in the jails with Medivh's confusing line of questioning and Taria’s supposed kindness.</p><p>He shook his head, giving up for the time being and flicking to the next page. His eyes fell on a detailed sketch etched in red ink. It depicted a giant structure surrounded by mountains from which great numbers of something too blurred to see surged through. More than that, it seemed it was either intaking or expelling vast quantities of light energy too. His fingers traced the outline, musings forming on his lips. </p><p>“The Great Gate.” He muttered. His mind suddenly quieted of all other thought, eager to reach the end of this thread. </p><p>His fingers ghosted the words etched at the bottom, they were less faded and written in different ink, most curiously, they were written in common. Khadgar didn’t recognise the handwriting. </p><p>“From light comes darkness,” He whispered. “And from darkness, light.”</p><p>The words swam through his head and he frowned, unable to make sense of them they drifted away, settling into his subconscious. Khadgar swore lightly, resting his head against his bed. Gods he was tired. Blearily he blinked back down at the text. </p><p>“Ask Alodi.” </p><p>Khadgar tested the word a few times, trying to place it. It seemed equal parts familiar and unheard of. He stifled a yawn, reaching out to etch something in his own papers. He made it a few sentences in before the quill fell limply from his hand, his head lolled back against the bed, gentle snores escaping his lips.</p><p><br/>
He woke the next morning at a knock on his door, snapping his neck up and immediately regretting it from the twinge of pain that shot down his spine from sleeping in such a position. He glanced down at his unfinished text and swore under his breath, gathering them into his arms and dropping them on the desk. </p><p>“Yes?” He answered to the persistent knocker. </p><p>“The King has requested you to join Lord Lothar and Garona on a mission.” A soldier's voice responded. </p><p>Khadgar's nose wrinkled, they had let her out already. “Uh, okay?”</p><p>“You leave in one hour,” The voice said, and when it wasn’t met with a confirmation it continued. “Is that okay?</p><p>“What? Oh, yes, of course, I’ll meet them at the stables.” He said, rubbing his eyes. </p><p>Footsteps faded from the doorway and Khadgar groaned, rolling his shoulders back. He blinked out at the rising sun and yawned so heavily his body shook. It was going to be a long day. Grimacing he thought back to his last conversation with Lothar, he knew it was going to be awkward, he didn’t know what he would do if Lothar approached him again. He didn’t even know what kind of mission they were going on which didn’t help his nerves much. Khadgar stuffed the book into his bag, he would just have to translate on the move. </p><p>Gathering his things he looked around at his room and allowed himself a small smile, it certainly had more personality in it now, even if that personality was “Absolute crazy madman with too much time on his hands.” </p><p>Translations and tracings scattered the floor and were pinned to walls. Important notes suspended above the ground by string and coloured yarn linking connected pieces together. Had he more time, he would have cleared them up to save the shock and confusion of some poor cleaner, but Khadgar had not had time to bathe for a few days and he felt gross. He would wash before this mystery mission and simply lock the door before he left. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Lothar, Garona and his two lieutenants got the stables first, preparations didn’t take long and Lothar found himself waiting impatiently for their mage. It wasn’t that Khadgar was late, in truth they were unreasonably early. Lothar had wanted to show Garona that punctuality, rather than puncture wounds, was something humans found honourable and Khadgar was ruining it. </p><p>The younger man appeared exactly on time, which didn’t change the fact Lothar still had to wait twenty minutes for him. He wanted to make a snide remark, something to get back at him for the other day but the words fell from his parted lips when Khadgar appeared around the corner. Lothar felt the breath leave his lungs.</p><p>Khadgar's slightly damp hair hung in front of his dark eyes. He passed Lothar without a word, beelining for Shiloh. As their paths crossed Lothar breathed in the fresh scent of soap and he suddenly felt very dirty by comparison. Something twisted in his gut.</p><p>“I apologise if I made you wait,” Khadgar addressed the group at large. “I was told an hour.”</p><p>“So were we,” Karos muttered, jostling Lothar's shoulder good-naturedly. “I guess some peoples clocks are a little fast.” </p><p>Lothar jostled him back, shaking himself back together before climbing onto his horse. </p><p>Karos informed Khadgar of the nature of their mission, simply scouting the dangers ahead and trying to pinpoint the location of the gate. Khadgar was to accompany them for protection in lieu of the guardian who was away on important business. Khadgar was most certainly not qualified to protect anybody, but he couldn’t exactly say that now he had come this far. He nodded, and they rode out of the gates. </p><p>Khadgar had pulled his book out of his bag, thankful for Shilohs’ gentle temperament that allowed him to read without too much difficulty. She followed the horse in front of her dutifully, she didn’t know what her rider was doing, and she didn’t particularly care either. </p><p>Shiloh lost her footing only slightly over a rock, regaining it quickly. The slight jolt pulled Khadgars’ gaze above his book and he startled, looking around at the unfamiliar landscape. He twisted in his saddle, looking back at the now faint image of Stormwind in the far distance. He slipped the book back into his bag, resolving to pay better attention to the roads from now on. If an ambush did befall them, he had to be ready.</p><p>Luckily, no such ambush came. They reached their camping point safely just as the sun was beginning to set. Khadgar had never been to this part of Azeroth before, this high up in the mountains he felt he could see everything and nothing at all simultaneously. </p><p>Lothar dismounted. “Bookworm,” he said, a sly smile gracing his features as he looked up at Khadgar. “Take the first watch.”</p><p>Khadgar felt his short tether snap. “Respectfully Commander, my name is Khadgar.” </p><p>He regretted it instantly based on the way Lothar's smile stretched further. Too late, he realised what Lothar had done. </p><p>Lothar mock bowed, successfully having annoyed Khadgar into talking. “My deepest apologies Khadgar,” he began, doe-eyed. Khadgar winced. “You see, I thought we had bonded when I didn’t put you in a prison cell for breaking into the royal barracks. Now take the watch.” </p><p>Khadgar noted how Garona's attention turned to him, lips curled in amusement. He wavered under Lothar's heavy gaze and let his own drop to the floor. He cursed silently, dismounting and retrieving his belongings from Shilohs’ back. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Taking the watch, Khadgar thought, would be much easier if two of the most annoying people on the earth weren’t also awake with him. He tried to concentrate on the sounds and smells around them for anything out of the ordinary but found himself constantly distracted. Whether it was musings on his research, questions about the cryptic gate, watching Garona to make sure she didn’t make good on her threat and gut him, watching Lothar because the older man kept watching him or simply trying to stay awake, taking the watch was proving difficult. </p><p>Lothar appeared nearby, snatching a chicken leg from their makeshift fire. Khadgar's stomach grumbled as he realised his brain had been too busy with everything else to remind him to eat. </p><p>“Well,” Lothar said, settling down against a rock. “At least you aren’t reading.”</p><p>Khadgar looked down at his hands, reverting to trying to block Lothar out. He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes, wondering if it would look weird to reach for food now that Lothar had done it. </p><p>“He wishes to lie with me,” Garona said and suddenly all thoughts of food were forgotten. </p><p>“Beg your pardon?” He gawked, steadfastly ignoring the gleeful chuckle Lothar shot his way.  </p><p>“You would be injured.”</p><p>“I do not want to lie with you.” Khadgar hastened to say, stumbling over his words.</p><p>“Good,” Garona said, “You would not be an effective mate.”</p><p>That was enough to send Lothar over the edge, he choked out a laugh, looking between the two, eyes shining as if this were the best day of his life. Khadgar suddenly felt very hot, flushed with embarrassment. He pulled at his collar, looking away from both of them. </p><p>“Why do you laugh?” Garona asked, pulling Lothar's gaze towards her. His boyish smile wiped from his face. He looked back at Khadgar for support in the matter, realising immediately he would get none. “I can’t see how you humans survive such a thing. No muscles to protect you. Brittle bones that break.”</p><p>“You don’t look that different to us,” Lothar commented offhandedly, taking another bite from his chicken wing. “How did you survive?” </p><p>“Broken bones heal stronger,” she said. Lothar paused. “Mine are very strong.”</p><p>Lothar lay his half-eaten wing on the ground, his appetite lost. He looked at Garona, who didn’t look at him. He looked at Khadgar, who was looking at Garona, who wasn’t looking at him either. He sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, turning back to face her.</p><p>“Do not be.” Another pause. “My name. Garona. It means cursed in orc,” Garona didn’t know why she had started sharing with these small strangers, but now she had started she found she couldn’t stop. “My mother was burned alive for giving birth to me.” The men around her shifted, uncomfortable. </p><p>“They kept you alive though.” Lothar tried, attempting to be helpful. </p><p>“Gul’dan did,” She admitted. It seemed like a big confession, but Lothar didn’t understand it. Based on the way Khadgars’ breath quickened, he did. “He gave me her tusk to remember her.”</p><p>Garonas’ fingers toyed with the frayed edges of the rope around her neck, resting them on the smooth tusk it carried. As if sensing Lothars’ and Khadgars’ attention for the first time, she pulled her blanket up to cover it. </p><p>An uncomfortable silence drifted between them. Lothar thought about what to say. Maybe he should share something personal? But he didn’t know what and frankly he didn’t want to anyway. He was about to suggest they turn in for the night and leave Khadgar to his watch, when suddenly the young man shifted. </p><p>“My parents gave me to the Kirin Tor when I was six years old.” He said, hating the tremble that shook his body. Lothar watched as Khadgar rubbed circles into the back of his hand, shoulders drawn into his neck. “That was the last time I saw them,” he continued, eyes shining with an incomplete memory. “Or any of my brothers or sisters.”</p><p>Garona watched him carefully, loosening her grip around her mother's tusk. She tilted her head at him.</p><p>Khadgar fought to keep his voice steady, gazing up at the pattern forming clouds. When he thought he had regained control he looked back down at his company, trying to word it in a way they might both understand. “It brings a family honour,” he settled on. “To offer a child to the Kirin Tor. To have their son taken up to the floating city of Dalaran and be trained by the most powerful mages in the land.” He paused, chewing his words. He realised Lothar and Garona were waiting for him to continue and he cleared his throat. </p><p>“Less so, to have them run away.” His laugh was quiet but held no mirth, smile small but did not reach his eyes. Slowly, it slipped from his features altogether. Khadgar looked smaller somehow without it, he gazed at the campfire, seeing everything and nothing all at once. </p><p>“Well,” Lothar said, clearing his throat but not looking away from the mage. “That was tearful.” </p><p>He had hoped it would come off somehow both aloof and caring, but he wasn’t very good at this sort of thing. Lothar blinked a few times, turning and pretending to ready himself for bed. Garona followed suit and soon the camp was finally quiet, much to Khadgar's relief. </p><p>He drew into himself, tracing patterns in the dirt to keep his mind busy. He hadn’t meant to share all that, but something about the lost look in Garonas’ eyes had spurred him. Khadgar watched as Lothars’ supposedly sleeping form stirred and he let out a quiet groan when the older man sat up. </p><p>“It’s not your turn for the watch yet,” Khadgar said, the silent treatment forgotten. “I’ve barely started.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” Lothar said, rolling his shoulders back and stretching. He didn’t say anything else, only came to sit opposite Khadgar by the slowly dying embers of the fire. </p><p>“So why don’t you sleep then?” Khadgar asked, cursing himself for beginning to feel relaxed when Lothar could just as easily be as fel ridden as the king. </p><p>“What was it like?” Lothar asked, ignoring his question entirely. “At the Kirin Tor?”</p><p>Khadgar shuffled uncomfortably. “As you would expect,” he shrugged. “They were hard on you if you failed. They were hard on you if you succeeded,” Khadgar rolled his eyes at the concerned look Lothar shot his way. “It wasn’t terrible,” he said. “You just had to be perfect, it’s the way it is. If you aren’t perfect, something could go wrong, people could get hurt.”</p><p>“Surely you can’t be perfect all the time.”</p><p>Khadgar shrugged. “Sure. And you’d be punished for that. I don’t like their methods no, but at least they work.”</p><p>Lothar frowned, his gaze considering. He wanted to push the topic further, it seemed ridiculous to punish someone for not being perfect for every waking second of the day. He sensed Khadgar didn’t want to talk much more about it and so he nodded, changing his line of questioning.</p><p>“What of your family?” Lothar asked. “Now you are out, have you contacted them?”</p><p>Khadgar stilled, breath hitched and shoulders tense. Lothar stumbled, about to say something else to change the subject. </p><p>“No,” Khadgar said. “I uh, I don’t know where they are. When you give a child to the Kirin Tor you don’t usually see them again. Unless you try.” </p><p>Lothar nodded slowly, wishing he hadn’t asked. </p><p>“I don’t remember them much,” Khadgar admitted. “I had one brother and two sisters last I knew, might be more now. I was always a bit different, could do things they couldn’t. My father jumped at the chance to send me off to Dalaran. I don’t even know if they know I’ve left, it would shame him terribly.” He trailed off, glancing up at Lothar before quickly looking away. “Sometimes I dream of seeing them again. Usually, he gets angry, tells me I’m no son of his, and they leave again.”</p><p>Lothar swallowed, missing the warmth of the fire. Part of him wishes he’d stayed curled up in his blankets, the other part glad the mage had been able to share. Travelling with someone who refuses to speak with you gets tiring quickly. </p><p>“I had a wife,” he said, shocking himself by saying it and shocking himself further by continuing. “Her name was Cally. She was unlike anyone I had ever met, the most beautiful girl you ever saw. We met as children and we were friends for years. I wasn’t the brightest back then, took me a while to realise I was in love with her.” </p><p>Khadgar smiled at him, urging him to continue.</p><p>“I would do anything she did, and I mean anything. I hated acting. I wasn’t any good at it and I felt stupid doing it but she loved it. So one summer when we were young she signed up for a play the children of Stormwind were doing and so, of course, I signed up too. Llane and Medivh teased me about it for years. I forgot my lines so much the woman just made me improvise,” Lothar chuckled, shaking his head. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me. She gave me Callan, and then she died.”</p><p>Khadgar's smile fell from his face but the look he gave Lothar wasn’t full of the pity he usually despised but was filled with an understanding that grounded him.</p><p>“I wasn’t a good father. I admit that. For the first few years, I blamed Callan for her death. I sometimes even wished he was dead instead of her. He was a good kid, rarely put a foot wrong and as a result, I didn’t have to intervene much. I was as absent a father as you could be when you live in the same house,” Lothar sighed. “When he joined the army I knew I had to change. He was trying to be like me and I was setting no good example. He’s an excellent boy and I wish I saw that sooner. I’m so proud of the man he’s becoming. But he did that all on his own, he didn’t need a father to make something of himself.”</p><p>Khadgar nodded, sure there was some meaning in there he was supposed to gleam. He thought he understood and didn’t want to pry further. With a hushed goodnight, Lothar returned to his blankets, leaving Khadgar to his thoughts. Lothar felt somewhat out of breath, he wasn’t used to talking for so long. Absently he wondered if that was because nobody wanted to listen to the old grumblings of a man who didn't know how to come out of mourning. That, or he wasn’t a sharing man. Perhaps a bit of both. </p><p>The embers in the fire died out one by one, the only light now coming from Khadgars’ hand as he kept watch. </p><p>Curled up in her blankets, Garona finally closed her eyes.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soft times ahoy and dark times ahead!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. What I now know, can hurt me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What Khadgar doesn't know, he will find out soon enough</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The journey was, for the most part, uneventful. They paused briefly for food and to rest the horses. Lothar, not wanting to be overbearing, made a point of avoiding Khadgar as he bustled around checking his soldiers' weapons. Khadgar watched him distantly, his book face down by his side and his fingers laced with dust and dirt from the gate like diagram he had drawn into the floor. Garona watched both of them, her gaze torn to the path ahead of them. Her stomach was unsettled. </p><p>Around them the treeline grew sparse, trunks began to shift from their steady deep browns to twisted and blackened roots. Patches of scorched earth blended into mudslides and dead grass. In the distance, great plumes of smoke that filled their mouths with ash even from their safe space miles away. Lothar spat on the ground, sweat and sulfur rising to his nostrils. By all accounts, they had arrived. </p><p>Khadgar was the first to dismount. The very air around him seemed to scream, the arcane that dwelled in the earth reared up to him, confused, afraid, and angry. He didn’t know what it meant, had never felt anything quite this strong before. Behind him, Lothar, Garona and the others followed suit. He felt Karos reach out to stop him, but his feet had already taken him further. A mumbled curse somewhere from behind, but he couldn’t place it over the thrumming in his ears. </p><p>As he approached the cliff face he ducked down, scrambling across the ground and telling himself the abnormal rate of his heartbeat wasn’t a show of cowardice. He peeked out over the top of the cliff and felt his jaw slacken. His fingers curled tightly into the sparse grass beneath him. Somebody brushed against him. Somebody said something. His chest grew heavy. There, surrounded by cages filled with innocent people, stood the gate. Almost exactly as had been sketched into the book that grew hot in his pocket. He shoved his hand roughly into the cloak folds to find the cool leather surface as it always was. He grimaced. </p><p>Next to him, Lothar surveyed the scene with a coldness that suggested if he didn't, he would have thrown up into a bush by now. Hundreds of cages, each filled to bursting with citizens of Azeroth, mostly humans but, if he squinted, he could make out something else, something unfamiliar. At first, he thought they might be elves, but the ears were so different. He felt his grip tighten around his sword hilt, cursing with the knowledge there was nothing he could do. Not yet. Not here. </p><p>Garona stayed slightly behind, already knowing what vision lay before them. She had warned them or at least tried to. Instead, she looked at each of the humans in turn, imagining what they might be thinking. She tried to picture the cages filled with her kind, how that might make her feel. The answer was inconclusive. </p><p>“Why are there so many prisoners?” Lothar asked, turning to face her.</p><p>She was silent for a moment, avoiding his eyes. “Like wood for fire.” she said, “Green magic take life to open the gate.”</p><p>Khadgar flinched. </p><p>“This is just a Warband,” she continued. “When the gate is open, Gul’dan will bring the horde.”</p><p>Lothar chewed this over, suddenly eager to get back. The quicker he could present the king with this knowledge, the quicker they could come back and rescue these people. He stole from the cliffside, flanked by one of his men as he quickly remounted, ordering for Karos to ensure the other two got back to Stormwind. They would travel quicker without having to stop to allow the mage and the orc to rest. With that and no word of goodbye, he was gone. </p><p>Garona watched the faded leaves rustle at their departure. By all accounts, this was a stupid move. Khadgar seemed occupied with his thoughts and Karos was busy preparing the horses. It would be easy for her to make an escape, to storm into the camp and tell them everything. She would no longer be their prisoner. </p><p>She mulled this over for a moment as the two men disappeared. A gust of easterly wind stumbled her and as she regained her posture she looked up at the now-empty expanse. It hit her then, quite suddenly. She was no prisoner. She had no cage. She had her own horse creature to ride. They did not worry about her escape, for she had nothing to escape from. </p><p>“Garona,” Khadgars voice roused her, “We should go. It’s not safe he-”</p><p>His voice was cut off suddenly, replaced with a panicked muffle. Garona whipped around. Her eyes widened, breath caught in her throat. </p><p>“Durotan?” She asked. </p><p>A large orc stood before her. His large hand, armoured with tusks and teeth gripped Khadgar’s mouth closed. He stood at least a foot taller, muscles rippling under dark skin. His chest decorated with emblems of his clan, Garona knew him, not well, but well enough. </p><p>Karos was nowhere to be seen and Khadgar trembled where he stood. His wide eyes questioned her, pleaded with her. There would be no honour in killing him from behind, he was safe, though she didn’t quite know how to communicate that in the silent eye language he seemed to be desperately using. </p><p>“To the north,” Durotan spoke. “There is a black rock that touches the sky. I would meet with their leader.”</p><p>“To challenge him?” Garona asked, stepping towards him. </p><p>Khadgar shifted fearfully, Durotan shook his head.</p><p>“I saw you lead these small-teeth to the encampment. They have seen what is being built, but only you know what Gul’dan has planned for my people. This magic means death for all things, it must be stopped.”</p><p>As he spoke his grip tightened around Khadgar’s mouth. He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill. Durotan glanced down at him, eyebrows lifting in surprise as he quickly loosened his grip, enough to still hold him in place. He had seen this small man use words against them before, this seemed to be stopping that. </p><p>“Tell him,” he continued “The black rock when the sun is at its highest.”</p><p>“I will,” Garona promised. She considered her next words. “Chieftan,” she said, stepping closer again. “If I return, would you take me into your clan?”</p><p>Durotan exhaled softly, no malice nor judgement in his gaze. “You are safer here, with them.” </p><p>She dropped her gaze, feeling her shoulders sag under the weight. When she looked back up, Durotan had released Khadgar from his grip. They faced each other, one craning his neck to look at the other. Durotan lightly tapped his fist against Khadgars chest and Garona sucked in a breath. The mage would not know what that meant, it was something she had never been given in all her years with them. A sign of respect, of brotherhood. She had no time to feel jealous for Durotan looked at her next, his hand flat against his chest and Garona nodded back, unable to formulate the words on her lips. He departed quickly, leaving Khadgar to stumble in his step, eyes blown with confusion. A pained grunt pulled her attention to Karos who struggled to pull himself up off the ground. A smile tugged at Garonas lips. </p><p>She told them what had transpired, what it all meant. Their journey back was filled with questions she wasn’t altogether sure how to answer. </p><p> </p><p>--------</p><p> </p><p>The council meeting was well underway by the time Lothar arrived back in Stormwind. The sounds of arguing travelled through the long hallways as he walked swiftly towards the congregation. Now was no time for formalities, no bowing nor announcements. They would forgive his interruption when his news was this grave. </p><p>He heard Llane’s voice, calm yet stern. Another voice, likely King Magni’s rose in challenge.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” Lothar said, coming to an abrupt halt. All eyes now on him. </p><p>“Commander.” Llane returned, concern lacing his tone. </p><p>“The orcs are building a portal,” he said between breaths. “Through which they plan to bring an army. They have captured hundreds of innocents who will die without our immediate intervention. This has gone too far.” He added, mostly for Llane. </p><p>The room burst into action around him. Arguments in raised voices. Demands for the guardian. Questions without answers. Answers to questions nobody had asked. Amongst it all, Llane, expression unreadable, voice clear as always.</p><p>“We will take a break.” He said, quieting the other voices. “And I shall handle the Guardian.”</p><p>“Where has he been?” A night elf delegate asked. “How has he let it get this far?”</p><p>“We have known peace for too long.” A dwarven voice responded. “He has grown lazy and we are expected to pick up his slack?”</p><p>“You could have summoned him at any time.” A human. “Just because your lands were not the first to be invaded. They will come after you next.” </p><p>“And we will be ready!” another dwarf.</p><p>“You can’t even reach your swords.” mumbled an elf. A glass was thrown to the floor across the table. </p><p>“We will take a break,” Llane spoke again, louder. His voice cutting across the others as he and Taria rose.</p><p>“Take as long as you need.” A Lordaerian delegate hissed, rising too. “We are done here.”</p><p>Lothar went to speak when he felt a scroll press into his palms. </p><p>“What’s left of the fourth has retreated from Stonewatch.” His lieutenant whispered. Lothar’s chest tightened. </p><p>“What’s <em> left?” </em></p><p>“Callan is amongst the injured.”</p><p>Lothar didn’t waste another moment, turning on his heels and storming down the stairs. The din of arguments fading as his feet took him further away towards the infirmary. His heart like thunder against his ribcage, muscles tight and stomach-churning. </p><p>He ripped open the flaps of the large tent and he shouldered his way inside, not having time to apologise to the healers in his path. At the far end, he could see Callan’s prone form and a cloaked figure at his side, likely his healer. Lothar’s pace quickened, Callan caught his approaching figure out of the corner of his eye and Lothar released a breath, at least he was conscious. </p><p>When he arrived at Callan's side the first thing he noticed was that the cloaked figure was not a healer, but rather the insufferable young mage who had a habit of always being around exactly when Lothar didn’t want to see him. </p><p>“I, uh, sorry, I’ll go,” Khadgar said, giving Callan a small nod before darting from the tent. </p><p>Lothar watched him leave, turning in question to Callan who shrugged in response, wincing slightly at the movement. </p><p>“What was he doing here?” Lothar asked.</p><p>“He was checking up on me,” Callan answered. “He heard about the fourth at the gates.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you two were friends.”</p><p>“It’s not like he has anyone else to choose from,” Callan rolled his eyes. “He’s been in Stormwind for a few days and in that time has almost been thrown in jail, gotten involved on the front line of a war, and the one person he has to travel with has a habit of insulting him.”</p><p>Lothar opened his mouth to respond but was caught off guard by the teasing smile on Callan's lips. He shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed instead. His stern, calculating gaze travelled his son's body, searching for injuries. He landed on the large gash on his forehead, reaching out to pull his face to the side to get a better look. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Callan muttered, pushing him back. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Lothar glanced behind him, checking the mage was truly gone. </p><p>“You had me worried.” He finally said. “Where’s the rest of the troops?”</p><p>Callan shifted uncomfortably. “They took most of them alive.”</p><p><em> For the gate. </em> Lothar thought, brows knitted together. “We’ll get them back.” He said, trying to comfort them both. </p><p>Callan seemed to take that to mean they’ll get them back right that minute because he sat up, pushing himself off the bed only to be pushed back down.</p><p>“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Lothar warned, and Callan opened his mouth to argue. “You’re all I have,” he added quietly and Callan stilled.</p><p>“I know,” He said after a moment, not knowing what else to say. He looked up at his father, understanding him for the first time in a long while. “I’m a soldier.” He said, hoping Lothar might understand him too. </p><p>Judging on the faraway smile Lothar offered, his gaze distant on a spot above Callan’s head, he did. </p><p>Lothar departed soon after at the request of Callan, the reminder he had a job to do. As he walked back to the castle he wondered why his son and Khadgars new friendship filled him with dread. To say he didn’t trust the mage would be an understatement, but he had proven useful so far. Perhaps he judged him too quickly, Callan had always been a good judge of character, and their most recent excursion had revealed things about the younger man that you might have heard in a children's tale. A jaded villains background, and yet, here he was, helping. The lack of care he had been shown has only resulted in an abundance of care for the world around him. In the least offensive way possible he doubted Khadgar had friends before and Lothar tried to imagine his youth without Llane and Medivh, without Cally. The young man was restless, he took a great deal of risks, but, Lothar supposed, he had never had anything to lose before. </p><p>He had been harsh, had been so opposed to Medivh’s plan that he had taken it out on him. Perhaps he could give the mage a chance, maybe they too would become friends, somewhere far far down the line. </p><p>His thoughts had taken him all the way up to the throne room. Khadgar was notably absent, though when Garona mentioned this Durotans arrival and subsequent half capture of the mage Lothar felt something twist uncomfortably. It had made sense at the time, but in essence, he had abandoned his men whilst deep in enemy territory. Had this creature decided to kill them, well, Lothar didn’t want to think about that.</p><p>When he brought his attention back to the conversation, Llane was once again making a decision that Lothar could only describe as idiotic.</p><p>“The location,” he quickly interjected, “the suddenness of the meeting. Sounds like a trap.”</p><p>“It is not.” Garona protested.</p><p>“Could be.” He noted.</p><p>Garona side-eyed him. “It is not,” she repeated.</p><p>“Could be.” childish yes, but working nonetheless.</p><p>“It is not.” Garona declared, glaring at him.</p><p>“What do you think?” Lothar asked, turning to Llane. </p><p>“It’s too good an opportunity to ignore,” Llane admitted with a sigh. “I think we have no choice. We must stop these orcs from crossing the portal, but we will need help.”</p><p>Llane looked at each of them in turn, a frown passing across his features. “Where is Khadgar?” he asked.</p><p>“Researching,” Taria answered. “In his quarters.”</p><p>Llane nodded. “We will leave him in pace then.” He said. “He can be informed later.”</p><p>“What if this orc is lying?” Lothar asked.</p><p>“Orcs do not lie.” Garona snapped.</p><p>“What if he is?” Lothar asked, growing tired of this routine. </p><p>“There is no honour in it.”</p><p>Before he could blink Garona was in front of him, barely a breath away. Her glare challenging. </p><p>“And where is the honour in him betraying his own people?” He commented. </p><p>“Durotan is protecting his clan” Garona seethed, enunciating her words as if Lothar was too stupid to understand. “His enemy is the fel. Gul’dan is the betrayer.” </p><p>“This orc, Durotan,” Taria quickly interjected, “How do you know him?”</p><p>“He freed me.” She said. “And he is loved by his clan. He is a strong chieftain.”</p><p>“Strong chiefs must earn their clans trust,” Taria said, standing from her chair. </p><p>Lothar sighed, now that Taria was on Garona’s side, there was no way he could win this argument. He watched as she descended the stairs towards the orc.</p><p>“If we are to expect you to join us,” she began, “We must earn yours.” </p><p>From a hidden sheath by her side, Taria produced a small dagger. Lothar knew it well, his sister carried it with her always, it had saved her life more than once. He glanced at Llane, noted the wide-eyed adoration with which he regarded his wife. She was every bit the diplomat. Taria held the dagger out towards Garona, who took it tentatively, regarding it with shock. </p><p>“To defend yourself,” Taria explained, watching the melody of expressions that crossed Garona’s features. </p><p>She held the dagger up towards the light. “With this?” she asked, her tone mocking but her eyes wide with clarity, a soft smile tugging her lips. </p><p>“Yes,” Taria said, matching the smile. </p><p>Lothar rolled his eyes, turning to see the same smile on Llanes' lips. He groaned inwardly, folding his arms across his chest. </p><p>“To the armoury with you then.” Llane addressed him. “We must prepare.” </p><p>Lothar nodded, glad for an excuse to leave. He stepped out into the hall, glanced down the corridor that led to Khadgars room before turning the other way, heavy footsteps taking him to his destination. To a meeting, or to a war, whichever came first. -----</p><p> </p><p>-----------</p><p> </p><p>Khadgar fumbled with his door handle, wondering why on earth he had apologized to Lothar. It wasn’t illegal to be in the infirmary, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. If anything, since he had apologised it probably looked more suspicious than the explanation that Callan was one of the few people in Stormwind he felt he could trust. He was beginning to come around to Lothar, he was either trustworthy or an incredibly good actor. Yes, he was loyal to the king, but with his position, he had to be right? Khadgar was sure he would see sense. Would put the kingdom first. </p><p>He pushed the door open and stepped inside, faltering and almost tripping over himself when he saw Medivh once again, uninvited. The guardian stood surrounded in a sea of papers, drawings and research. All traced from the tome Khadgar had… borrowed. </p><p>“What is this?” Medivh asked, not looking up nor turning around.</p><p>“Guardian?” Khadgar asked, a stupid question really. He knew who it was. </p><p>Khadgar closed the door behind him, fishing his notebook out of his cloak. He felt one of the sheets slide free, nestled somewhere in the deep pockets. “The gate,” he said, “We saw it in the Morass. I’ve been researching, putting together all the clues I can about it.”</p><p>He shoved his hand into his pocket, trying to find the loose sheet. </p><p>“This,” Medivh said and Khadgars hand stilled. “This drawing. Where did you copy it from?”</p><p>The guardian turned to look at him finally, dark circles enshrouding his eyes. Without blinking he pulled down a sheet from where it hung. “And this?” he pulled another. “And this?”</p><p>“I, uh, I’ve been researching,” Khadgar tried again “Ever since I felt the presence of the Fel.”</p><p>His hands trembled where he clutched his notebook as Medivh whipped around, laden with the papers he had painstakingly copied and studied. </p><p>“I am the Guardian!” Medivh growled. “Me. Not you. Not yet.”</p><p>Khadgar stilled. His hopes of them working together on this evil washed away. “I just thought you might appreciate some help.”</p><p>Medivh slowly lifted his gaze to look at him, something unrecognisable stared out at him and all of a sudden all he could see was red. His work, his sleepless nights up in flames around him as the small room caught alight. He screamed out, ducking as the beams above him flickered with the embers of his research. As quickly as the flames had ignited, they died out. His room was untouched, the beams as sturdy as ever. His research, however, all gone. </p><p>Young and wide eyes travelled the room in fear, landing on the unchanged expression of the guardian. Khadgar swallowed a breath, a million thoughts attacking him all at once. </p><p>“You have no idea the forces I contend with,” Medivh breathed and Khadgar was taken back to his first night in this very room. He took a step back. “And if you want to help, protect the king. You leave the Fel to me.”</p><p>Medivh walked past Khadgar, pausing at the door to glance down at a small table. His fingers curled around the spine of his book, he glanced it over. “Interesting choice.” He mused. Medivh picked it up and opened the door. He stepped out and with a wave of his hand the notebook clutched in Khadgars hands burst aflame. He dropped it quickly, reeling at the scorch mark across his palm. The door clicked and Khadgar was left alone.</p><p>He frowned, running his hands across his face as he tried to blink away the confusion. The loose paper in his pocket weighing him down. He reached inside, fingers catching against its edge as he pulled it out, smoothing it against a table. He shuddered involuntarily before grabbing the paper, stuffing it back in his pockets and running for the door. He burst it open so hard that it swung closed on its own as he took off down the halls. If there was ever a time to find out if he could truly trust Lothar, this was it. </p><p>A very bemused soldier told him he could find Lothar in the armoury and Khadgar took off again, not entirely sure of the direction but too desperate to stop. From the ramparts he could see the city below bustle, people moving to evacuate, though he wasn’t sure where could be safer than these walls, people locking themselves in their homes. Something had begun, something Khadgar had missed. He ran faster. </p><p>By the time he got to the armoury Khadgar was out of breath, he spotted Lothar in the corner and willed himself forwards. </p><p>“I need your help.” He called, Lothar straightened from the chest he was looking in. Khadgar noted the female soldier by his side, one of Callan’s friends whose name escaped him.  “I found a book.” He said as if that explained it. </p><p>“Of course you did.” Lothar sighed, shutting the chest and moving to help Kiona lift it. </p><p>“There was an illustration showing the gate like the one we saw being built,” Khadgar said quickly, realising he was in the way. He stumbled over his apologies, dancing around to the other side. “So I showed the guardian but he became furious.” </p><p>Lothar straightened quickly. “Kiona, assist Jurat with the spears, he’ll take his eye out in a minute.”</p><p>Kiona nodded, offering Khadgar a small smile before crossing the room, leaving the two alone.  Lothar gestured to the other chest, indicating Khadgar to help him. </p><p>“He burnt all my research,” Khadgar said, lifting the chest too quickly in his haste and causing Lothar to almost lose his grip.  Khadgar didn’t notice. “He would have burnt this too if it hadn’t been hidden in my robes.”</p><p>Lothar took the paper, glancing around them to ensure they were alone. His bones clicked as he sat down and he felt Khadgar take a seat next to him. Something heavy rested in his throat, he was under strict instructions not to let Khadgar know anything was amiss, but this stupid demon was making that incredibly hard. </p><p>He blinked down at the sheet, unsure of what it was supposed to be. Khadgar leant over, tugging the page and turning it around.</p><p>“Look,” he said, resting his fingers on the page. He gently traced the lines and Lothar blinked as they seemed to come to life before him, the figure of someone beckoning, calling out.</p><p>“What do you think it means?” He frowned. </p><p>“The orcs were summoned,” Khadgar hinted, “From this side of the gate. They were invited in.”</p><p>Lothar swallowed heavily. “And the Guardian burnt all your research?” He could practically see Khadgar’s thought process, there was no possible way he could explain this without coming clean.</p><p>Khadgar was silent, but it said all Lothar needed to know. </p><p>“He’s probably just trying to protect you.” He said, immediately cursing himself for it, it made no sense and Khadgar was surely smart enough to see past it. </p><p>Khadgar nodded slowly, not looking at him. Maybe, just maybe, he had caught Khadgar as a good moment and he might have just gotten away with it.</p><p>“Bullshit,” Khadgar said.</p><p>Maybe not. </p><p>“What?” Lothar asked.</p><p>“You expect me to believe a man who set my room on fire is trying to protect me?”</p><p>“Well-” Lothar tried but was immediately cut off.</p><p>“No. Lothar cut the act, okay? I know.”</p><p>Lothar felt the colour drain from his face. “You know...what?”</p><p>“Everything!” Khadgar threw his hands in the air, attracting the attention of nearby soldiers. He turned back to Lothar, voice hushed. “Medivh is hiding something. He doesn’t want me to find out about this, he was missing for years, he comes back and suddenly knows a spell to expel the fel from somebody? Your king knew of the fel before it even came here and now Medivh wants me to ensure his protection? The only thing I don’t know Lothar is if you are part of it.”</p><p>“Part of what?” Lothar asked, panicked. </p><p>“Part of the plot for Llane to take over with the fel, Medivh by his side.” Khadgar hissed. </p><p>Lothar blinked at him, choking on a nervous laugh, the sound of which seemed to offend Khadgar further. The younger man suddenly stood, glaring down at him. Lothar rose too, grabbing him by the elbow. </p><p>“We can’t talk here,” He said. “Follow me.” </p><p>Lothar released his arm and took quick strides towards the door, knowing Khadgar would follow. It was useless pretending now, Khadgar had practically figured it out on his own but his thinking Llane was the enemy was a dangerous variable.  </p><p>They came to a halt in an empty room that had once been used for Variann’s teachings before summer came and he took his lessons outside. Lothar took a seat at a table, kicking out another chair for Khadgar who hesitated before sitting. </p><p>“What’s going on Lothar? And don’t lie to me this time.”</p><p>“Well,” He started, tasting the words in his mouth. “I guess I better start at the beginning.”</p><p>Khadgar nodded curtly at him and he sighed, cursing under his breath. “Years ago, when I suspect you were still with the Kirin Tor, Medivh came to us. The halls of Kharazhan had granted him a vision. A vision of an Azeroth that had fallen to the fel, we did not yet know what this fel was. He gave it a colour, green. He showed us a titan, a demon, whatever you want to call it. It would take over him, and he would bring the fel to us.” He paused and glanced up at Khadgar, his eyes dark, mouth pressed into a thin line. A vein throbbed against his neck and his whole body seemed to shake. “Please understand,” Lothar added quickly, “we didn’t want the fel here. I tried to argue against it, but it was the only way. If Medivh accepted this demon, we would have a chance to defeat him. If we didn’t, it would come back in its full form with its entire army, we wouldn’t even have time to scream before we died.  I know how it sounds, believe me, but we had no other choice.”</p><p>“Why was I not told?” Khadgar asked, tone cold. </p><p>Lothar rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the other thing. Medivh saw you too. Well, we think it’s you. You were the key, the only thing that could stop him. We couldn’t risk telling you, couldn’t risk altering history in case it didn’t work. There is no fel in the king, please trust me there but Medivh, well, you get the picture.”</p><p>Khadgars knuckles were white, his narrowed eyes slits that cut across his features. </p><p>“You okay?” Lothar asked. </p><p>The mage's eyes rose to his own.</p><p>“Am I okay?” he repeated. “Thousands of people are going to die, and just because you <em> think </em> I’m the person from some vision I’m expected to find a way to <em> save </em> the world?”</p><p>“Well, we’re reasonably sure it's you. It’s difficult to explain.”</p><p>“Difficult to explain?” Khadgar laughed bitterly “Who are you to decide my future? you don't know me. You don't know anything about me. People are dead. Real people with real lives are dead because of some stupid plan that might not even work and now it’s all on me! The fate of the whole earth is on me and I’m not told! I’m not given time to prepare! Those people are dead because of your stupidity and because I didn't act quick enough to a threat I hadn't been told about.“</p><p>“It’s not ideal but would you rather the whole world burn?” he asked, desperate.</p><p>“I would rather a choice! I would rather the fate of the world not be down to me, but you robbed me of that.”</p><p>“Medivh has sacrificed himself for this,” Lothar said through gritted teeth.</p><p>“And you want me to do the same? History has already been altered by you knowing, and yet me, the person this all depends on, was not trusted enough to tell. What will the people think, when you knowingly led them to this? The people in cages are there because of you!”</p><p>“I am only doing my duty for the greater good!”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry I didn't know your duty was to let innocent people die. What if I just decide to turn away?”</p><p>“You won’t.”</p><p>“What, am I your prisoner now? Are you going to lock me in a cage like Garona? Force me to perform tricks?”</p><p>“I had a feeling you would freak out,” Lothar growled. “This is why we couldn't tell you. You’re too unstable.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m unstable now?" His laugh was harsh. "Was I unstable when I stopped those orcs from hurting the guardian back when I thought he was good? Was I unstable when I captured Garona without hurting her? Was I unstable when I came to you, thinking you might help?”</p><p>“You’re too young to understand the implications.”</p><p>“Am I? Then you’re the person who put someone incredibly underqualified in a position that means the end of the world. Is this what you wanted?”</p><p>“Of course not!” Lothar shouted.  “I don't want it. I don't want you. I don't see how a whiny pup is going to save us all when he can’t even listen to reason for one goddamn minute! You’re being insufferable, I get that you are angry but there is so much more at stake here. Medivh is going to die because of this.”</p><p>“No worse than the thousands dying because of him.” </p><p>Lothar stood suddenly, glaring down at Khadgar. </p><p>“Like it or not.” He seethed. “This is the way things are. Frankly, I don’t care if you’re happy about it, or understand it, or like it one bit. It’s too late to turn back now, so you either help us or not. Help us end this, or turn your back on us like you turned your back on the Kirin Tor.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Khadgar growled, rising to face him.</p><p>“Like your family turned their back on you.” Lothar spat. </p><p>Khadgar recoiled, a sharp pain shooting through his ribcage as he took an involuntary step backwards. </p><p>“I must say I commend you,” Khadgar said, heat climbing his neck. “You have done an excellent job proving you don’t need to be infected by the fel to be a monster.”</p><p>Khadgar turned on his heel and stormed off towards the door, slamming it behind him and ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes. He choked on laboured breaths, not here. He couldn’t do this here. He burst into another thankfully unused room and sank to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as panicked half breaths rattled through him. In the hallway, he heard another door slam. Heavy, hasty footsteps echoed and faded. He was alone.</p><p>He was so sick of being alone. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the long delay in an update! I've been moving house!</p><p>What do you thinks going to happen now that Khadgar knows the truth? They were just starting to get along!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed this! It's my first time writing for the fandom, but I'm a long time lover of the games and the movie.</p><p>This will be a slow burn, but due to quarantine and furlough I'll be getting chapters out like cookies out of the oven at a bakery! That is to say, very fast. The next chapter (Which should be up tomorrow) will focus on Khadgar. </p><p>I plan on using a mix of game and movie lore within this, and if I do I will update the tags</p><p>Hope you are all well and safe! May the light be with you. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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